Haunted
by StarbucksEnterprise
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has been dead for 5 years. He currently resides in his summer home, Louisiana, where a certain American is moving in... USUK Human/Ghost AU. Mild smut, language and violence.
1. Arrival

_Chapter 1: Arrival_

Alfred drove up the long, gravel driveway in his Mercedes Benz, tilting his rear view mirror as he accustomed the car to it's new parking space. The sun was bright in Louisiana, as Alfred new it nearly always was. Although his country got an awful lot of hurricanes, the rest of the time he could always play soccer on the beach with some of his friends.

The house stood high above the nearest town; it was on a small hilltop, and the building was a five minute walk away from any neighbouring homes. The beautiful village was how any American dreamed it would be, full of houses smaller than their own, and with people living there who knew all the other people living there, and would most likely give Alfred gifts to congratulate him on moving, like his brother Matthew had when he first told him he was actually getting a house of his own. Although, Matthew proceeded to laugh, and told Alfred how he'd never survive without him to keep him alive.

Why Matthew thought he couldn't take care of himself was a mystery to Alfred, as he'd always done everything by himself! Apart from maybe he still couldn't wash his own hair, or that he was a Hopeless Cook. Either way, Alfred was really pleased with the purchase he'd made with the giant mansion he saw before him. It was breathtakingly cheap, considering the size of the thing, it practically stretched up to the sky!

The delivery van wasn't far behind Alfred's Mercedes, and quickly parked itself beside it. As soon as it did, the men driving the truck helped unpack Alfred's belongings from the back of the van. All of his stuff was inside there, apart from the more important things like his old photographs of his deceased mother, and his childhood, and his Nintendo Wii.

Alfred F. Jones took the first steps inside his new home. There was a smell of lavender in the musty air in the hallway, but Alfred presumed that was because some of the furniture of the previous owner, including a scented candle that still hadn't burned out yet, had been left there. Some of the things that the house contained Alfred didn't want to get rid of, simply because they made the place feel more homely as he discovered more and more rooms. They were only small decorations, but both Alfred and the delivery men agreed that the sofas with the appalling flowery design absolutely _had_ to go.

As he explored the building, he found awesome cubby holes, that he could hide personal stuff in, and more evidence that the person who lived here previously had _no_ taste. In _anything_. When he'd went in the kitchen, he found a half-drunk cup of…tea? Lying on the desktop. He thought it was odd, but half the stuff in the house looked used… Even still, he continued to the next floor, and the next floor, and the next floor… and then he found himself unable to go any further. There was a chill. As he went up the staircase to find the attic, he was stopped by an awful chill that acted like a wall of ice that made him uneasy.

Alfred was scared of ghosts. He knew he should make a run for it immediately, but thought about his situation before doing so. _There was a disturbance in this area of his house. There was an _attic_, those are nearly always the target market in ghost homes!_ Alfred thought to himself. And what if his house was haunted? If the ghost was only living in his attic, then if he just lived in the rest of it, it shouldn't bother the thing that much. There was his easy answer. Taking his hand away, that had been slowly edging towards the handle of the door, he began to make his way back to the third floor. He heard a groan, and sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, to the ground floor, screaming like a girl.

"Bloody git…" an incredibly British voice said. It was from the attic, and it wasn't anyone helping Alfred with his packing, and wasn't supposed to be there at all, but all the person or thing making the noise was thinking was how that _idiot of a man had disturbed his sleep with his infernal screaming._

Back downstairs, Alfred entertained himself by playing Mario Kart with one of the younger men from the delivery company; his name was Kenny, and he was pretty damn good! Alfred thought it was probably because he drove a car for a living, as Kenny's Yoshi kept beating him when he was playing Wario. Most of the guys there were taking a break and drinking coffee, deep in conversation about their customer who had enough money to buy this place. But it was something one of the older men said that caught his attention. That the previous owner still lived here.

Alfred let another guy take over his game, and walked over to the large man who was talking.

"Can I help?" the man said in a gruff voice, which (if he was quite honest, and always tried to be) scared Alfred a little.

"You said that the guy still… _lived_ here?" his voice was shaking ever so slightly, and didn't go unnoticed by the other guy.

"Oh yeah, one of my boys said they heard some funny noises coming from upstairs," the truck driver said with a grin, "Says he thinks there might be ghosts in your house…"

"Well I'll be…" he stifled a laugh, "I'll have to get my brother, Mattie, in on that! He's a specialist in the supernatural!" Alfred was a little embarrassed. He knew he'd made himself look wimpy in front these guys, and although Alfred didn't know them at all, it still made him nervous. But it was true, he was terrified of the un-dead, and his twin taught a class on the studies of ghosts and other scary things, like how people who were thought to be vampires were buried, and how zombies might actually be real. Him and Matthew both knew they were polar opposites, how Alfred was really a loud-mouth when he wasn't panicking about what may or may not be hiding in his closet, whereas Matthew would speak his mind, quietly, sometimes through things like poetry or song, which Alfred thought was a waste of time.

He thought to himself he would _actually_ have to get his brother over to his new home, seeing as Alfred himself had heard noises too, and was toying with the idea of moving somewhere different. The thought ended when the crew said they should get a move on if he wanted his bed ready to sleep in that night.

The unpacking ended at about 8:30PM that evening, and the men left with their vans as Alfred settled down into his new home. It was 3 hours later before he decided to go to bed, he had a certain routine which involved walking the length of the entire 3rd floor while brushing his teeth. As he carried out this ritual, he bumped into a blonde haired, green eyed gentleman of whom he'd never seen before in his life, in the middle of the hallway.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the startled figure spoke. Alfred stared wide eyed, gaping mouth full of toothpaste that was beginning to drip out, and wondering who the hell the new comer was.

Then he realised the figure was shorter than him. But he was towering over Alfred like a giant. Because his feet weren't touching the ground.

Alfred let out a yelp, and locked himself inside his bedroom.

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><p><strong>First chapter guys? I figured I needed to write a Hetalia fanfiction, because I'm obsessed at the minute. I need motivation to keep on with this one, because I've got an entire plan, and no time on my hands :( LOVE YOU XXXXXX<strong>


	2. Haunted

_Chapter 2: Haunted_

Alfred was constantly afraid just to turn a corner in his new home. Everywhere he went, he kept checking to make sure the guy he'd seen when he'd first moved in wasn't lurking there to make some kind of creepy conversation, or a death threat to get him out of his house. Either way, Alfred wanted to avoid the what-he-thought-might-be-a-ghost as best he could. _Although_, thought Alfred, _he did seem _really_ polite… Maybe he doesn't want to hurt me?_ The last part had an enormous dose of hope seeping into it, as he stuck his head around the corner of the kitchen door, and saw the fellow brewing a cup of PG Tips. He was humming something that sounded like a song from Phantom of the Opera, and remembered how often his mother used to sing it to him to make him fall asleep. He missed her. Maybe he could ask if this guy could maybe go talk to her, and she could haunt the house instead of him.

He felt a cold breeze, although the windows weren't open, as the blonde ghost flicked his hand to one side, and turned an appliance on as if by magic. _Maybe that's just what ghosts do?_ he thought, trying to have the best imagination as possible. Alfred then heard a mobile phone ring tone, and fumbled around his pockets. He then recognised that it wasn't his mobile, and watched in amusement as the guy making tea, pulled from his pocket what looked like a glass phone.

"Hello?" the blonde answered it. It was only now that Alfred realised how English this guy was, and how posh (compared to an American) he spoke. The words from the pale lips came clearly and smoothly, every vowel uttered was well-pronounced and occasionally over-exaggerated. Alfred felt a little rude eavesdropping on this guys conversation, but he didn't even know the un-dead _had_ phones!

He listened in for quite a while, wondering who he could be talking to, when the ghost said, "Alright, see you, Grim!" and hung up. Alfred shivered when he realised who was on the other end of the line. The ghost went back to his business in the kitchen, where he was obviously making himself breakfast. Alfred didn't understand why a ghost would need to eat anything, or breath and all that. He was dead, after all.

The British blonde was frying eggs, so it seemed, and wasn't that good at it either. About a couple of minutes into the process, the pan caught alight, and Alfred couldn't help but laugh when he was cursing very, very loudly. The ghost turned the pan off, and turned his attention to Alfred, who was absolutely in creases. When they caught each others eyes, the laughter stopped, and Alfred went white. But still not as white as the ghost was.

"Can I help you…?" the dead person in front of the scared one asked. Even the blonde was just a little bit nervous.

"…" Alfred was shaking in his skin, for him this was a life or death matter. He felt like he just wanted to die, this was just too much for him!

"Are you okay?" the ghost looked a little worried, and took a single step towards Alfred, who took half a step back.

"I… What are you doing here?" he had the courage to ask.

"Well, I can't leave… I am to the understanding you moved into Kirkland House?"

"Yeah, I did… And yeah I saw the plaque outside…" at the front of the house, there was a sign indicating the name of the building, and what year it was built. Alfred had noticed it hadn't been around that long.

"I'm incredibly sorry if this is to your inconvenience, it's just I honestly can't leave this place, and it's very boring staying up in the attic all day long. There isn't a TV or anything…" the ghost flushed a little, if that was even possible. Alfred thought that the guy was being extra polite, because _no one_ was this perfect in real life! "Alfred… Alfred F. Jones!" he held out his hand, wavering in the air as he dare touch the thing that was barely even alive.

"The late Arthur Kirkland, pleasure to meet you." The ghost came closer and shook the hand that was given to him. His hand shake was firm and proper, much like other Brits that Alfred had met, but slightly different, because his palms were really soft, as if he was... In truth, Alfred wanted to keep a hold of those hands, even though they were quite cold, because they reminded him of his mom, Daphne. That's right, he wanted to ask Arthur about his mother!

"Uhhmm… I have a question…" he murmured.

"If it's about the feeling of death, then-"

"No, it's about my mom… She died when I was 11 years old, and I'm wondering if I can err… contact her… Just cos you're here, an' all…" he didn't really know what to say about the situation, but he got an answer.

"It says in the GCC, the Ghostly Code of Conduct, that I'm not allowed to take you to see dead relatives… Unless it's Christmas, then I think you're allowed, but only for a while…" Alfred's face lit up. Even if it was just for Christmas, that was better than never again.

"But that's top secret, okay! You can't say anything to anyone!" Arthur flailed. He was looking slightly more stupid right now.

"Sure, I just would really like to see her sometime!" both boys were blushing a little, neither knew quite what to say. So a moment of silence followed.

"Do… you want anything to eat?" Arthur asked. The other laughed.

"Yeah, but no offence, I think I'll make it myself!" Arthur started giggling too.

"Even in the afterlife, I _still_ can't cook!"


	3. Conversations

_Chapter 3: Conversation_

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><p>The conversation that had happened the previous day seemed like a truce. If Arthur didn't scare the shit out of Alfred, then Alfred wouldn't call the exorcist. Basically, everything seemed to settle after their conversation, and the day after a playful argument on who's country had better music (which Arthur won, seeing as England was the home of <em>Queen<em> and _The Beatles_). Then another playful argument on who's country had the best "soccer" team, when Arthur tackled Alfred into a headlock, to make him call it "FOOTBALL", because soccer shouldn't even _be_ a word, in his opinion. For that, they settled on America had better players, but England's football fans had the greatest team spirit in the entire world. Especially the Geordies.

Alfred woke that morning not worried about ghosts or monsters, which was something he hadn't done in a long while, because of his constant fears of being eaten or killed by the supernatural. But talking to Arthur made most of it alright, because Alfred had learned that not all un-dead people were as evil as the books and movies (not that he'd ever actually _read_ a _book!_) had portrayed them to be. If Alfred could out-live his fear of ghosts, then Matthew owed him $10.

But Alfred was curious. He wanted to know more about ghosts and Arthur so he could be unafraid of him.

"So am I allowed to ask how you died?" Alfred plucked up some courage, because this was obviously a personal question, for a ghost.

"I knew this would pop up…" the blonde sighed

"No, you don't have to, if it's personal or anything, its just…"

"Alfred, I will, I've just never had a chance to tell anyone before, so I'm not sure where to begin!" he rested his pale chin on his pale hand, and thought. He thought for a while, with little sighing noises for intervals, and finally spoke once more.

"I… I was walking home from the cinema, see? And it just kind of happened… For no reason, I hadn't upset anybody… Some guy, who looked like he was on drugs, ran up to me, and stabbed me many times in the chest. I had no control… My ex-boyfriend, Francis, was trying to get my attention, because he saw me in the street, and he watched the whole thing. It was really awful, because he still really loved me… Yeah, the fact that I got stabbed in the chest was pretty awful, but the fact that I died in the arms of the person I loved my whole life, and didn't manage to tell them before dying, was even more painful… He was screaming my name, screaming how much he cared about me, and the guy who killed me ran away, not even realising what they'd done they were so high!" Arthur said this bitterly, but Alfred couldn't help but notice the sadness that glazed over his dead, yet green eyes.

"Seriously…?" Alfred looked at him, wide-eyed. He was American, the sentence that followed was, of course, stupidly insensitive.

"A _gay ghost!? _No way, man! I mean, just… WOW!" Alfred was almost on the floor laughing, bent double already wishing the laughter wouldn't hurt as much as it did. Arthur could've punched him, by the look on the blondes face.

"You could at least _try_ to be a little more sympathetic!" the outraged ghost said, "I did _die_, you know!"

"I'm… I'm so sorry!" Alfred tried to say, between laughs, "It's just- I watched a video on Youtube-! The Homosexual Ghost!- God~ Ahahahahaha!"

"I've seen the video…" Arthur looked a little less than pleased, as he did the most (unintentionally) cutest pout known to mankind.

Alfred managed to shut himself up, before Arthur did actually punch him. Wait, could ghosts do that? Punch? He'd shook Arthur's hand, sure, but maybe there was a rule against violence in the GCSE or whatever the hell Arthur had called the Ghost Law…

"Man, I'm sorry dude… That was inconsiderate, but I mean you don't see an 'eerie queerie' every day, if you know what I mean!" Alfred nudged Arthur, jokingly, hoping he'd see his side of the joke and forgive him.

"I know… I'm gay, alright? If you didn't see that coming from a British pixie like myself, then I doubt you could tell Elton John's sexuality!"

"Elton _who?_" the American could only gaze in confusion for a reply.

"Never mind. I can understand why you'd find it funny, but personally I'd think a gay _vampire_ would be more hilarious! 'They can suck more than your neck' kind of thing?" Alfred laughed harder when Arthur commented this

"If you want a gay vampire, just read _Twilight_!" Both boys split their sides from laughing too long.

_I don't think being with Arthur will be that bad…_ thought Alfred, _He makes me laugh, and he can prepare me for death, I guess. And I'll get to see mom for Christmas! I wonder if I'm allowed to get her a present… I'll ask Artie later…_

"Well, anyway… I just hope you're not a homophobe, because then things could get awkward between us…" Arthur blushed slightly, and looked devastatingly cute. Alfred went red because he was _thinking_ about how devastatingly cute Arthur indeed was, and got the tiniest bit aroused for having a particularly dirty thought.

"Forget homophobic, I'm homo_sexual_." stated Alfred

"What…?"

And Alfred leaned in, to kiss the slim pale lips that had teased him into doing this.

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><p><strong>Been editing some of this, hope you guys don't mind ;)<strong>


	4. The GCC's Guidebook for the Undead

_Chapter 4: The GCC's Guidebook for the Undead_

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><p>The warmth of Alfred's lips made the whole of Arthur tingle. It was a long while since he'd been kissed… Or in fact had <em>any<em> type of human contact at all! But this was different, and it was happening right now. He moaned a little, trying not to make it sound too ghost-like, in case Alfred got scared. When the kiss broke after a few seconds, Alfred caught his breath, while Arthur swallowed some air. He had no use for his lungs, yet he'd been breathing all his life, so the motion just stuck with him. He could feel colour rushing to his cheeks, the adrenaline of a first kiss always stuck with him, and he knew this was what he wanted when he pressed his lips back onto the other boy's.

_Bliss~,_ Arthur thought. He'd longed just to be _seen_ for such a long time, and he'd forgotten how precious the sensation was.

"I take it you believe? In _us ghosts_, I mean…" Arthur lifted his head away from Alfred's mouth, and looked directly into his sky blue eyes.

"What? Well, yeah! Otherwise I wouldn't be so damn scared of ya!" he sweat dropped, and laughed a little.

"It's just… Non-believers can't see us, unless we focus our supernatural energy, or whatever you want to call it… I'm glad it was you who moved here…" the ghost gave a gentle smile to the only living thing in the room, that wasn't a plant, and pecked his lips once more. They both giggled a little, and Alfred rolled on top of Arthur on the sofa they'd been sitting on the entire time.

Alfred decided this wasn't a good time to ask more questions, but he still had lots more he wanted to know, like if ghosts needed to eat, or if they fed off souls? If they had to use the bathroom like a human? If they could… _ejaculate_ if need be…

Arthur could see the look of curiosity spread across the other man's face as they snogged (or as Alfred would say, _made out_). He pushed away and asked him what was wrong.

"I still have questions…"

"Well, I'll answer the questions first, and then we'll get back to what we're doing, hmm?"

"Yeah~" Alfred licked Arthur's top lip affectionately, and he let out another pleasured groan before sitting up, and letting himself be the teacher.

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><p>"So, did you go to your own funeral?"<p>

"Yep. Luckily no one saw me, they'd be freaked out if they did. I mean, I was in Romania actually, when I died. The funeral was traditional, modern day Romanians still believe in vampires, so I watched them smash my skull, and cut out my heart, and put it in a jar, preserving it in vinegar and keeping it with my body. I went into the tomb, and brought it back with me, it's actually in the attic right now!"

"Dude, that's just sick… I don't wanna see your heart… But what about your stab wound? Is that on your body at all, cos you sure don't have a smashed skull…?"

"Only the wound that killed you is left on your body. My skull was smashed after my Soul Transfer, so it doesn't stay like that. You kind of feel sorry for the people who had their head cut off, though…"

"What the hell's a Soul Transfer?"

"It's basically however long it takes for your soul to escape from you're body, and it's where you are judged by the Grim Reaper himself. If you've lead a good, pleasant and loved life, but you die unexpectedly with stuff you still wanted to do, you can become a ghost who can touch things. So I can touch you, and you can touch me. I can also make myself cups of tea, which is probably the best thing about it!" both men laughed a little, "But depending on how bad you were in your life, you can become less able to touch things, less able to do things… The lowest you can fall is Level 5, as we call it. That's where you're a poltergeist, and you can't do anything apart from scare people so much, they shit their pants! That's your standard image of an evil ghost: ugly, see-through, white coloured and most likely a bit slimy. They'd be the one's you'd be most terrified of, because they're the ones that wreak havoc, and traumatize innocent people. I'm Level 1, because I've lead such a happy life, that it's not really finished yet."

"Oh, so like you're not done? But you can't really do anything…" Al didn't really know what to think, seeing as he had no experience with the supernatural. Maybe Matthew should indeed come over.

"That's where I need your help, Alfred! I need you to go, and get me the person I cared about most during life: Francis Bonnefoy!" Alfred's heart sank a little, and he knew why. He'd just made out with this person, and they were now telling him to bring home their ex, so they could do-?

"For…?"

"For the ritual. It's written in the _Guidebook for the Undead!_"

"EXPLAIN."

"Okay… Basically, the _Guidebook_ is a step-by-step guide on how to cope with life once you're dead! It shows you how you go invisible, how to become visible to even Non-Believers, and it shows you how to fly! There are tips on how best to scare people out of you haunting space, and it tells you how to rip your own face off… That sort of thing. It also gives you the rules of Ghosthood. The GCC have rules put in place for how the Level system works, which are the people you can talk to, and exposure to the public. But I can't leave this house, without the ritual! This house is my Restriction! I can't go anywhere! So, I need you to find Francis, and take a lock of his hair, to add to a potion so I can finally get around a little!" Arthur was trying really hard, he didn't need to because Alfred was gonna do it anyway.

"That's fine with me, _Artie~!_" he caressed his soft, cold cheek with his finger and nuzzled into the neck of his new pet. _That will be his nickname! _Alfred thought,_ He's my pet Ghosty~! _Alfred felt a little too pleased with his triumph, and forgot to notice the bubbles of slight anger rousing from his forehead.

"Sorry…" he chuckled, and kissed the blonde on the nose, and went to get his laptop, in search of a Francis Bonnefoy.


	5. The French

_Chapter 5: The French_

Alfred didn't really like the French that much. In a way, nor did Arthur. But this Frenchman in particular was just someone that wasn't as annoying as the rest of them. He was worse. Arthur didn't think so, of course, but Alfred had to talk to him over the phone, and it was almost like an internal suffering that lasted more than five minutes. He'd had to listen to "_zat is zis, an' zat is zat" _for who knows how long, and he just couldn't stand the accent the infernal frog was doing! Alfred didn't really like the French, nor their food, nor their landmarks, but this one particular French man pissed him off so incredibly much, not because of anything in particular, apart from that he was the ex-boyfriend of Arthur Kirkland, the person who (he assumed) he was now seeing.

Alfred didn't have a clue what he was supposed to say to the guy, apart from he wanted him to come over to his house, which wasn't really anyway at all for starting a conversation, unless, as it happened, you were Francis Bonnefoy.

Alfred was given the phone number of Francis by Arthur, who called him straight away. Not knowing what in Gods name he was supposed to say, he rang up, and as soon as he heard the _"Bonjour?" _he immediately said, "I found your number on a website, and I'm lonely, wanna come 'round my place to talk?"

Sure enough, Francis answered positively, and they exchanged names and Alfred gave him the address of Kirkland House. They were meeting in a couple of days time, because by complete coincidence, Francis was already in America.

"I know it seemed weird to invite you here, when we know nothing about you, but I saw you on err… the internet, and I thought you looked like a nice guy to talk to, so…"

"Ahh, zis is not a problem, _mon amie_! I simply answer your request, non?" Francis said, with his very broad French accent, which Alfred couldn't help but shiver at. "Zis is a very nice house you 'ave, but I must admit, I 'ave been 'ere before…"

"R- Really?" Alfred tried to sound surprised, even though he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Oui. My ex. Zis used to be 'is summer 'ome… Zat man was so damn rich…"

_Summer home!_ Alfred thought, _What's his real house like!_ He eyed up Arthur, who was standing directly behind Francis. Francis hadn't even batted an eyelash at Arthur, Alfred thought maybe he was ignoring him, or just hadn't realised that the 'love of his life' was just under his nose.

Alfred and Francis sat down for a conversation from the topic of how Arthur had been so rich, to Bill Gates, the richest. They didn't realise how much time had gone by, whilst they were moving from one topic to another, with various _'honhonhon' _s that Alfred _cringed_ at. Some time into their talk, Arthur had sat beside Francis, unnoticed, and was trying to stroke his hair affectionately, but failing miserably, as his hand just passed straight through his head.

"Is it cold in 'ere?" was all Francis could say in the current situation. He could not see nor hear Arthur, which made the ghost upset.

A while later, Alfred wanted to make Arthur feel better, so asked the all important question.

"So, your ex? You still loved him, didn't you?"

"Ahh. Oui, oui… I love 'im so much, no matter where he may be now… Arthur, 'is name was… Such a loss for ze world… Je m'ennuie tellement Arthur~!" he almost sobbed out the last few French words, but although Arthur was touched, Alfred didn't like it one bit. The way that French accent pronounced 'Arthur' was all wrong. It was '_Arr- th-urrr'_, not _'Aart-yuuer'!_ It felt weird, in so many different ways. But he had to be sympathetic. That's what Arthur wanted.

Arthur had taken some scissors five minutes ago, and cut a lock of Francis' hair without him noticing, so he could just leave. And he did.

Francis broke into a fit of tears, and said the house brought back too many memories for him to handle. So he ran out of the door, and simply drove away, as fast as he'd came.

"You alright?" Alfred asked Arthur. The ghost had been sitting in the other living room, so Alfred had only just walked in, finding him lying on the floor, panting heavily, with a beet red face. He was boiling, you could physically feel him. Alfred had his hand on Arthur's forehead, and almost got a burn on his hand. Arthur was unable to answer, he was so aggravated. The American picked up his _'pet'_ as carefully as he could, and took him upstairs to his bedroom. Alfred's, not Arthur's. Although, he had a feeling that his own room used to be Arthur's when he was alive.

Al placed the almost-sleeping beauty onto his Marvel Comics quilted bed. The poor ghost was already dead, how could he be suffering? _Some stupid damn ghost thing… _Alfred thought. He kissed his angel on his burning face, and got a glass of water from the bathroom. When he went back into his room, Arthur was awake again.

"I'll repeat my question: Are you okay?" Alfred smiled sympathetically. It took a while for Arthur to reply.

"Ngghh…. Nooooo~!" he wailed in agony, and let out a couple of yelps, pitch and intensity depending on how tired he was each time. He started to have a little cry, and Alfred snuggled down next to him, to hold the blonde boy next to him.

"This is what happens to ghosts if they stay near non-believers for too long… They get… sick~!"

"Oh, Artie… What am I gonna do with you?" he chuckled a little, "You sound like you're having an orgasm there!"

"Oh, shut up~" was all Arthur could manage in contradiction, "Make use of yourself, I'm _begging_ you, make me a cup of tea, please~!" Arthur almost passed out, because he'd snapped at Alfred, and that was _just to much energy._

Alfred _did_ make use of himself, and went downstairs, to whichever floor the kitchen was on, and made a cup of tea with the brief instructions he'd been given: Milky, sweet.

_This is gonna be a problem,_ thought Alfred.

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><p><strong>ARTHURENGLAND SOUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE'S HAVING AN ORGASM WHEN HE'S SICK, EVERYONE KNOWS THAT! LOL**

**And the little bit of French shit means "I miss Arthur so much!" I think. That's what Google Translate told me! I don't trust that site half the time, because it often gives translations that are absolute bollocks... But ya know!**

**Hopefully for all the anti-FrUk citizens this is probably the last you hear of France/Francis, I personally am both a UsUk AND FrUk fanboy, but that's just me... Actually, in order, my favourite Hetalia pairings:**

**1. America and England**

**2. France and England**

**3. America, France and England**

**4. America, France, England and... CANADA. (Who? XD) THAT BE A FOURSOME.**

**I only see the FrUk in particular to be onesided in any APH fics that I have ideas for, so hardcore UsUk fans have nothing to worry about!**

**BTW Are the majority of people reading this just girls? IF THERE ARE ANY FELLOW FANBOYS PLEASE SHOUT OUT!**

**AND ALL OF YOU, REVIEWS ARE LOVE!**

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	6. The Ritual

_Chapter 6: The Ritual_

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><p>It was a week before Arthur was completely better again. There were in total about 37 kisses, 10328 tears, and 67 cups of tea over that period of time, and Alfred had to admit, he'd never seen anything like this before. Of course, who would? It was hard to come across a ghost itself, never mind a friendly one, and certainly one that was sick, and looked as if they were dying for the second time.<p>

Alfred already came prepared with a cup of hot Earl Grey, when Arthur came out of his room.

"I didn't know you drank tea, Alfred…?" he had a confused look on his face, which quickly became a grin as he thought to himself, _'You've turned to the Dark Side, Alfie!" _

Alfred laughed at the obviously ridiculous statement, and told him it was his. For about the fifth time in the week.

"I know, I know…" giggled Arthur, who pecked him on the cheek and thanked him for bringing it up.

"You're looking a little better now, Artie. Think you're ready for that ritual?"

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot about that… But I feel a lot less ill, thanks! Still, I'd better find my _Guidebook_, otherwise the point of getting Francis' hair will have been wasted!" Arthur, taking the tea of Alfred, walked up to the attic, where he took an old-looking, dust-covered book and brought it back down. Alfred was curious to what was up there that he was sure that Arthur would never let him see, yet he didn't think that now was the most appropriate time to ask.

They went to the ground floor, where next to the living room, there was a door that lead into a large cupboard. Arthur ushered Alfred to follow, as he went inside the dark, barely used space, and shut the door, keeping them inside it.

"A little cramped in here, huh?" he chuckled. Arthur turned out the small bulb suspended on the ceiling, making them unable to see much.

"Artie, I don't… _like _it in here…" even after making friends with one, Alfred was still scared of ghosts, and most _definitely_ scared of the dark. Arthur lit a match, and stroked it down the brick wall at the back of the cupboard. He whispered something, and the bricks began to shuffle. Out of no where, a door formed, glowing an obnoxious green, and Alfred's stomach lurched ever so slightly. The blonde pulled at the door, which revealed a set of wooden steps, travelling all the way to what looked like the centre of the Earth. It wasn't, but it looked like it.

The next door presented another room, beyond the reach of Kirkland House, that was musky, dark and eerie. Alfred didn't like the look of it one bit. There was a circle in the centre of the floor, with a five-pointed star in the middle, around the circle there was a candle for every point. Alfred got handed the _Guidebook_, and was given a few instructions. As he was told, he placed the lock of Francis' hair down the middle of the _Guidebook_, and began to chant the incantation.

"_Satorita, mitamayda, ringo, jona, tito, marlain, jack la toiyah, janet micheal, dumbledorah the explorer!" _This was repeated until the star in the circle started to glow. Alfred watched as Arthur stepped inside the circle, taking the book with the strand of blonde, French hair with him.

He closed the book, and clasped it to his chest, said a few things that Alfred couldn't hear, and the glow engulfed Arthur, seeming to make him disappear for a moment, before returning to this universe as if nothing had happened.

"What…?" Alfred looked Arthur up and down, and could see no difference. Arthur couldn't tell either. He panicked a little, and sprinted upstairs, "Wait, Arthur!" he followed, almost as fast.

The blonde bounded towards the front door, and swung it open. For the first time in five years, he could actually see what was outside, feel the air on his white skin, and step into the world beyond that single doorway. He walked out, careful where he put his feet, and sucked up some of the fresh, yet useless, air that surrounded him.

Alfred finally caught up, he noticed the dazed look on the other boy's face, and hugged him from behind.

"So much has changed since I was last out here…" Arthur sighed. He didn't like the change, but being out of the house was good at least.

"I think we should go somewhere… To celebrate!" Alfred nuzzled into Arthur's neck, when hearing the pleasant groan, he spun him around, and moved his mouth up to push against the ones that belonged to his ghost.

"Drink?" Arthur smiled, and interlinked his and Alfred's arms as they walked down the gravel driveway.

* * *

><p><strong>The next Chapter is called: <em>Drunk.<em> I'll give you a cookie if you can guess what happens.**


	7. Drunk

_Chapter 7: Drunk_

* * *

><p>Arthur had to become accustomed to the new day light, as it had been a while since he'd seen it. As him and Alfred walked down the road towards the little town called New Castle, he took in the new and the familiar sights and sounds that were around him. The baby blue tits that nested in this big oak tree had all grown up since he'd last seen them, and had baby blue tits of their own. The sign that he'd once written next to his summer home which read: <em>Warning! Beware of the poisonous midges!<em> as a joke when he was a teenager was no longer standing, but stuck on a rock in the near by river, so as to not drift away. And he couldn't help but notice that something was different about the town itself… _Ahh, that's right! That giant estate never used to be there! _

After following the drive down the small hill, the couple headed to the nearest bar, the 19th Hole. They walked in, getting various nods from other customers, and the bar tender, obviously noticed from the bell on the door announcing their arrival. Alfred and Arthur walked hand in hand to the counter, where Alfred ordered.

"A Piña Colada and a Wolfram, please!" he rested his left arm on the wood.

"Waiting for a friend, hon?" the tender replied, in a curious tone. This woman… no, man? Alfred wasn't sure, but she was glaring at him with pink lipstick. _Probably a transvestite…_ Alfred thought. The bar tender had a broad chin a deep voice, and the way she or he had used the word "hon" was just like a typical gay. He didn't know what to think, so just stuck with his strange little theory.

"Uhhmm…" Alfred glanced at Arthur, confused. Arthur nodded, the bar tender was obviously a Non-Believer. "Yeah, he should be here any minute…"

"Alright then~" she winked at him, and shortly after that, the drinks appeared. By Arthur's suggestion, they sat as far away from the bar as possible.

"People who don't believe will be looking at you weirdly if you talk to me, so it'd be best if we don't stay too long…" Arthur looked around nervously, then took a sip of his cocktail.

"Dude, relax! By the time we're done here, you'll have a headache anyway! But, I promise I won't let anything happen to you!" Alfred slid his hand on top of his boyfriends, and gazed fondly into his eyes.

"Thanks…" the other blushed.

"Baby, c'mon!" Arthur showed he wasn't too pleased with this new nickname, "Let's just get wasted! You said before, this is the first time you've been out your house in five whole years! Enjoy yourself!"

"Alright, but you won't like me when I'm… well… _wasted_…"

Eventually, they ordered a _lot_ more drinks.

* * *

><p>"I di-unt wanna geddrunk, n' noow look a' mee~!" Arthur slammed his glass down on the table they were sat. Alfred, who thought drunk Arthur was hilarious, was in creases.<p>

"I luvv yooo, Alfieeee~" he attempted to stand up, with not much success. A couple of people stood up to offer help, the people they were with looked incredibly confused, as they couldn't even see Arthur.

"I love you, too, Artie!" Alfred said in between laughs. He proceeded to laugh so hard that he wasn't even making a noise anymore, he was just bobbing up and down on the spot, tears squeezing out of his eyes. He hoisted Arthur over his shoulders, thanked the people for their help, and carried the blonde out the door.

"I'm n't Brrrritssshhh… 'M just gayyyyyyyy…" Arthur murmured. Alfred couldn't help but laugh.

When they got back home, he threw Arthur straight onto his bed.

"Alfieeee~!" He pleaded, arms stretched. Alfred watched as the trousers on the other man pulled at what was underneath, and looked as if they were about to burst. In fact, they did. The button on Arthur's jeans flew off, narrowly missing Alfred's head, and let the zipper fall, showing Alfred the Union Flag boxers that the bulge was growing from.

"Make myyy daayy!" he spread his legs, hopeful for something more. Alfred looked at him, unsure what to do next. _He _is_ my boyfriend… _he thought. Alfred sighed, and climbed on top of the other boy. "Mmm so harrrdd…" Arthur whimpered. Alfred groaned as he pushed against the others boner, trying to make sense of what was happening. He could feel himself copying what had already happened to the blonde, as they both let out a small yelp.

Alfred found himself a little less than in control. He decided to take off his own trousers to feel a little more comfortable, and carefully removed the others boxers. His cock dug into the others as they started moving in time to an unheard beat. They kept rubbing against their hard-on's, making sweat and pre-cum drip out of their bodies until eventually neither of them could hold on any longer.

"I'm- I'm gonna-!" Alfred managed before half-screaming an ejaculation, and flooded the bed sheets. Arthur did the same a mere second later.

Panting was all the boys had the energy to do.

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><p><strong>I apologise for the terribly written (almost) porn... <strong>

**Love you all! XXX**

**REVIEWS ARE LOVE.**


	8. Shopping

_Chapter 8: Shopping_

* * *

><p>The next day, the boys awoke snuggled up in dampened sheets. There was a moment of silence before Arthur broke out into a frenzy of cursing, and Alfred could only laugh in return.<p>

"What the _fuck_ happened!?" Arthur glared at him, clutching his head and blushing like mad.

"Nothing, nothing! At least, nothing too serious, but I mean, well, something, but… errr…" Alfred nervously said the second half of his sentence. Arthur gave him another _look_, and he couldn't help but roar with laughter.

"It's not funny! What the _hell_ did we do!?" Arthur's tsundere moment was far too much for Alfred, so he simply just pulled Arthur on top of him. He struggled and squirmed in Alfred's arms, with about 30 'LET ME GO's in 5 seconds trailing out of his vocal chords.

"Artie, Artie, Artie! If you really wanna know, just ask me!"

"THAT'S WHAT I AM DOING." half-screamed Arthur. He felt his lungs give away as Alfred gave him the details of what went on the night previous.

"YOU DID WHAT!?" his face scorched with embarrassment as Alfred laughed and pulled him into his chest. The ghost heard a sigh leave Alfred's lips, and closed his eyes as if he was asleep.

"You're relaxed? You like what we did?" Alfred's voice blew into the blondes ear, making him shiver.

"I just… It's been a while since I've felt anything like it… Being undead, I feel it slightly differently… It's almost like loosing your virginity for the second time! Except we didn't… Actually do it…"

"No… We didn't…" Alfred felt just the slightest bit disappointed with the fact he _hadn't actually succeeded to take advantage of a drunk guy_. It was a little embarrassing, especially since Alfred was best known for pulling all the hot chicks at parties in high school. Obviously now, his orientation changed, it was all the hot _dudes._

The awkwardness aside, Alfred decided to do something about the bigger situation. He had to _somehow_ convince _someone_ he was seeing a ghost. And not just some old creep that sat by the bar every night, talking about why his wife had left him from his fear of the unknown. Alfred knew exactly who to ask: Matthew. His brother. He had experience with ghosts and all that, he was sure that Matthew would believe him about said topic. After all, who was better to go to about a problem with a ghost than the ghost whisperer himself?

Pitching the idea to Arthur, they agreed that they would go and see him the next time Matthew was available, which would hopefully be quite soon, but for now they would have to occupy their time with other things. They soon got washed and dressed into some casual wear, and ate breakfast in no time. After that, the Briton approached the other boy.

"Hey," Arthur handed Alfred what appeared to be a wallet. The taller boy was shocked to find that when he opened it, it was packed full of hundred dollar bills and countless credit cards. "My pin number's 7**9, I want you to go out and buy me some new clothes. I've been stuck in these-" he gestured at what he was wearing, "- the past five years, and by God, I'm sick to death of them! Apart from these, I won't be needing any of that money, so if you like you can buy yourself something pretty. I would like to stay here and catch up with the _Gok's Fashion Fix_ that I missed last night…"

Alfred agreed, and watched as the ghost slumped down on the red couch. As he took his brown leathery jacket and locked the door, he found himself wondering _'why the lazy bastard couldn't just get it himself? Surely he could watch that faggot at anytime of the day!?' _Alfred shook his head and made his way down the drive. He shouldn't use that word. _Faggot._ He was gay, too. And of course Gok Wan wasn't all that bad… Alfred considered himself more dominant and manly in a homosexual relationship, so of course he didn't like clothes and all that! But every so often, he'd always think twice about his sexuality. Was he straight or gay? He was pretty sure, this time, that he was gay. Otherwise he wouldn't have _dared_ to do those things to Arthur last night! Although, he didn't actually have sex with Arthur… Was he worried? Or did he just not feel that way?

Alfred cast the thought aside as he felt as though he would break if he considered it anymore, and strolled up to a large store called Top Man. He wondered around the building, finding things he thought that Arthur would like, including a black suit and tie, which he thought his new partner would probably call "distinguished", or some other fancy English word. Within the collection, Alfred bought various bits and pieces, including a green scarf, shirts in all different colours, a few jumpers, plenty of jeans and chords, ties and jackets, all of which he had to assume Arthur would like. Then of course, he'd had to estimate the size of Arthur. The boy was considerably smaller than Alfred himself, not to mention a little less muscly… and thinner… Alfred, in shame, gazed down at his stomach. He really needed to work out more.

Moments later, he was stood at the checkout, with a huge basket full of clothes. The young lady at the desk gave a look to him, then a look to the clothes, then another look to him. She raised a brow.

"I don't think these are your size, sir…" she sounded a little nervous; she had just offended her customer.

"Oh, no! These aren't for me! They're for my boyfriend!" After saying this, Alfred nearly clasped his hand to my mouth. Anyone could've heard him say that. And he didn't have a clue how gay-friendly his new neighbourhood was. The woman however, laughed a little.

"Alright, sorry!" she blushed, so did Alfred, "The name's Shirley! Shirley Bassets!"

"Alfred F. Jones, ma'am!" he gave a little salute, as Shirley piled the colours into a few bags.

"Say, you're not busy, are ya? I have a lunch break in ten minutes, maybe we could talk?" she whispered, as to not attract too much attention to the man nervously shaking in front of her.

"Uhh… Sure? Hehe…" Alfred scratched the back of his head. What would Arthur think?

"Meet me by the lamppost, just outside the main entrance," she said calmly, and handed him his bags full of clothes. Alfred gave an unsure nod, and made his way outside to wait for her.

* * *

><p><strong>Because Shirley is a hooker.<em><br>_**

**Cliffhanger...? Has she just asked him out...? Hmmm wonders... But that's for me to know, and you to find out! And what about Arthur, huh? What will he think! Well... Yet again, I know, and you don't /shot.**

**REVIEWS ARE LOVE, WHORES!**


	9. A Date?

_Chapter 9: A Date..?_

There was many tense moments as Alfred waited for this woman. Her, and her dazzling wavy blonde hair, and makeup that stained her face. The brown eyes she had made her look so inevitably cute, Alfred could hardly take his eyes off her… And he misunderstood why…

_Could I maybe be straight..? _Alfred pondered this question for a _long_ while. Maybe he was? Nope. But he didn't know for sure. However, I'm sharing with you now that he certainly wasn't, no matter how hard this boy thought he was still unsure. That made a lot of sense, didn't it? But one of the many things that determined that Alfred was in fact as gay as the sea was blue was the simple fact that although he was admiring and thinking about the girl he had just met's features, he didn't once notice the double F cup she had hanging of her chest. Shirley Bassets was a straight guys dream, but it was because of everything _below_ the neck.

She waltzed on outside to find Alfred nervously waiting for her and linked their arms.

"C'mon, how about we go to that bar just up ahead, hmm?" she didn't even bother waiting for a reply, and dragged the fellow to the nearest bar. Alfred remembered having a friend with the voluptuous figure that this girl had, she went by the nickname of Katyusha, and was related to his old friend Ivan, who said if Alfred even dared touch her, he would murder him with a pipe. With a tap on it.

Aside to that, Alfred found it hard to concentrate having only _just_ noticed the tits on this woman. _But this is betrayal…_ Alfred thought. _Arthur will _hate_ me for this! And he'll kill me with his ghostie powers! _The fear spread across his face like butter to bread because of the latest thought. He was still scared of ghosts, whether Arthur liked it or not. Here's to hoping he didn't introduce Alfred to any of his friends, like the one he spoke to on the phone when they first met.

Shirley and Alfred sat with drinks at a table in the window of the bar. Vodka and coke, and a tequila.

"So…" he said, trying not to sound too awkward, "What's up?"

Casually the woman replied, "So you said about you're _boyfriend?_"

OH THANK GOD. She wasn't trying to hit on him! She wasn't on a date with him! And most importantly, he wasn't breaking Arthur's trust! This was _harmless!_ Alfred was making a female friend who was clearly just fascinated by his homosexuality! She might already have her own boyfriend!

"Is he cute?" she said, casually.

"Pff, of course! My Artie is the most adorable thing in the entire universe!" Alfred said out loud without realising.

"Oh~! That's so _sweet!"_ she cooed. The look of awe in her eye was a little weird for Alfred. When noticing what he himself had just said, his heart began thumping in his chest. _I really love Arthur that much, huh? _

"I was wondering…" she leaned in closer, "Have you came out yet? Do you think you could give my little brother and his boyfriend any advice? I just figured… Since you were… well… Do you think you could help? I mean… he's still young, and he really needs assistance… but-"

"I'll do it! After all, I am the hero!" his eyes lit up. All she wanted was his Hero Help! He felt so much better knowing that he wasn't going to get hit on by a straight girl.

"Aww, thank you so much, honey!" she gave him an endearing look, "Chris will be so happy!"

"Chris?" Alfred raised a brow.

"Chris, he's my step-brother. Him and his boyfriend, Aaron, have been going through a tough patch at the minute, with all the people 'round here being so damn homophobic!" Alfred nodded. _Oh dear… _He thought, _What if all my neighbours… Or anyone… We could be in trouble!_

"That's awful! What's happened to them!?"

"Well, my brother and his boyfriend were recently assaulted just for being gay! They kissed publicly one night, and if it weren't for the police, they might've been killed!"

"That's bull." Alfred's expression grew a frown. Why people would kill for liking other men was beyond him, but Alfred didn't take boxing in school for nothing. If he ever met the guys who did this to Chris and Aaron, they would be in deep shit.

He told that paragraph to Shirley who seemed overly happy with what he just said, and grabbed his hands in excitement.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to have a man like you!" she gazed at him a little drearily, and then they continued with their conversation.

The day gradually past without much disturbance, and soon it was time for Alfred to go home. He should've been home _ages_ ago, but Shirley had helped him with more shopping, and stuff that _he_ wanted. But Shirley had been a _doll_, and Alfred was glad he'd made such a nice new friend, and a supportive one at that.

He arrived back at Kirkland house at about 9:30PM, and was greeted with the most unnerving glare from his boyfriend that could've turned milk sour.

"Just _where_ do you think _you've_ been!?" Arthur stood there with his arms folded, and bushy brows frowning.

"Out, like you told me to be!" Alfred said, putting the bags of shopping down, "You said for me to buy you stuff!"

"I didn't expect you to be so inconsiderately late! You should've been back sooner!"

"Well pardon me if you wanted to spend your day with _Gok Wan_ instead of me! Besides, I've been out with the most _wonderful_ girl-"

"YOU WHAT?!" Arthur yelled at him, absolutely outraged. He was fuming, to think he could've trusted, let alone dated, this man who says he's gay then starts seeing a woman.

"Her name's Shirley!" Alfred said firmly. "She's very nice, and not a whore, and she was talking to me about clothes! Not something you should worry about, Artie!"

"Why… Shouldn't I worry? You're _my_ boyfriend, after all…"

"Because! She's nice! And she can be friends with both of us!"

"Oh, and sure! I can totally be friends with her~" Arthur said, over-sarcastically.

"You could be, if you didn't stop acting like a fucking limey all the time, and you actually gave her a chance!"

"What did you just call me?"

"A limey."

Arthur blew. His body glowed a vibrant red, and eyes a blinding white.

"What? Can't take an insult? You're pathetic! I can't believe you, Arthur! The girl's got class! Goddamnit, you're such a freaking bastard!" Alfred was only 19. He was practically a teenager still, and had no idea what the effects of what he just said were. Arthur didn't like to be called a bastard. Arthur didn't like to be called pathetic. And Arthur certainly did _not_ like to be called a limey, no matter what the context. Alfred hadn't even noticed the ghostly aura that had surrounded the other man, he had turned his back right after he'd said 'limey'. That was a mistake.

"You fucking-" Arthur began to say. Alfred turned around at this point, and nearly shat himself.

Arthur had raised a hand, about to mutter an incantation, when Alfred's eyes grew, and he got down on his knees and started to beg.

"Oh my god, Arthur, I'm so sorry, I forgot you were a ghost, and I love you, please don't hurt me, I'm too young to die, you wouldn't want me to end up like you, having only half-lived my life, I have so much I still wanna do, oh please Arthur, I love you I love you I love you, ARTHUURRRRRR~!" Seeing how pitiful Alfred was, Arthur calmed down a little, and began to let the aura fade a little. He didn't loose it entirely, but it made most of his anger go away, and thought it would be nice to have Alfred do a little something for him.

"Go make me a cup of tea right now, and I might forgive you. You know the drill: Milky, sweet."

Alfred let out a sigh of relief, saluted and went off to do what he was asked. He was so glad he wasn't at risk with having his very own two nightmares come true at once; 1) to be killed by a ghost. 2) To be killed by an effeminate man.

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><p><strong>TROLOLOL Brief mention of certain people, there... Aaron is me, Chris is... Chris Colfer... Yeah... NOT YET HE ISN'T, ANYWAY. I had to do that, I really did... Wow... I'm abusing myself in my own stories... Is that worrying? XD<strong>

**Alfred is childish, and on his man-period. He said meanie things about Artie, which if I was in his position, Alfred would have been dead already X3 But a nice cup of tea makes it all better~**

**And finally, Shirley is hopefully leaving... No wait... I write a chapter ahead of uploading... She isn't quite gone yet... BUT WAIT! WHO'S THIS I SEE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER? IS IT... FLYING MINT BUNNY! AND NIGEL THE UNICORN! AND A WEIRD INFLUENCE FROM THE CORPSE BRIDE! Oh, how will you cope with the wait?**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS, DARLINGS!**


	10. Misunderstanding

_Chapter 10: Misunderstanding_

It was about a few days before even a word was said between the two boys, in consequence to the argument they'd had. The ghost had taken to flying off through a wall or ceiling rather than talk to him face to pale face. Arthur thought he had been a little harsh, and was about to apologise. After all, Alfred wouldn't betray him, would he? The thought lingered with him for a moment before he batted an eyelash, and got out of his Union Flag bed covers to make himself a cup of tea. What he heard downstairs made him want to rethink his decision.

"So, you live alone?" a female, Louisianan voice cheerily said. Arthur glared through the wall that he was now standing inside; one of the advantages of being a ghost.

"Uhh, yeah..." he heard Alfred's voice now. Arthur almost blew a fuse. He couldn't hear the voices clear enough, so opted to mutter an incantation.

"Santra ba~dra winza~nadara~ wonpa~to~rana intrakantera~!" and Arthur faded invisible, even to people who believed in ghosts. This is what the _Guidebook for the Undead _called _Disparation. The act of not being seen by anyone, not even other ghosts. _Arthur quoted in his mind. He strolled over to where Alfred and _that woman_ were sat. It must be a pleasure to have _that_ in his life now.

Arthur stared at the double F cups as they seemed to vibrate with every word she said. The conversation was oh so aggravating, Arthur felt a dramatic ping in his brain, and it told him to get out of there. But to be quite frank, he wanted to watch what Alfred and _that woman_ was doing. She didn't believe in ghosts. Arthur felt it from the moment she walked in the room.

"Oh, darling! Did you choose these curtains? They match your eyes!" _that woman _squeaked. _No, he most certainly did _not! Thought Arthur. It was one of the only things in the entire house that Alfred had chosen to keep that belonged to him. Which hurt a little, but he couldn't help having terrible taste. In cooking especially.

"Uh… No, my friend did… He… yeah…" Alfred was having a hard time using words. Arthur got more upset with every syllable he spoke.

"Dahling, whassup?" Arthur _cringed_ at this, but he continued to listen.

"Oh, nothing… It's just I'm in a bit of a fight with someone, is all…"

"Is it… Who you are… uhh…"

"Yeah, that's right…"

Arthur supposed he was talking about himself. He sighed and then made his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. After all, that was what kept him going through all those 5 years of being alone knowing he could have some PG Tips whenever he felt like it.

The conversation going on behind him was hardly audible any more, mainly because Arthur had chosen to block out what Alfred and Shirley might've been saying, but as he poured the contents of the kettle into his Union Flag mug, he could hear the male American stutter his sentences, trying to avoid the ghostly-tea-making proceeding in his kitchen from being seen.

"You don't look so good, Alfie? Need some help?" Shirley put her hand to Alfred's forehead, which Arthur happened to see. He started to heat up, and not in a pleasurable way. Arthur noticed some of his more colourful friends from the afterlife gradually appear in front of him. One was a vibrant pink, and the other a light green. They stared at him, wide eyed.

"Nigel, Bunny! What are you two doing here?!" Arthur said in a hushed voice.

"We're here to see if you're alright!" a rottenly green bunny hosting two small angel wings said.

"Cos you don't look too good, Arthur! That girl's bothering you, isn't she?" Nigel, a white, blood-stained pink, horse piped up. With a jagged piece of bone protruding out the top of his skull, he almost looked like a unicorn.

"Guys, you really don't have to… But yes, she is…" Bunny and Nigel were the only company that Arthur had for five years, they only seemed to show up when he felt particularly miserable.

"You're jealous, Arthur!" Nigel stated. It was true, Shirley was incredibly beautiful.

"Hey, Arthur! What has she got that you don't have!?" Bunny joined in.

"How about a pulse?"

"That's _so _overrated! You don't need a beating heart to love someone!"

"Yep! And eventually, she'll be dead, just like you! She doesn't believe, of course she won't become a ghost!" Nigel neighed.

"And? The point is: She's alive! I'm not! When I… I don't know, put my finger in a candle, I don't feel a thing! Nor when I cut myself or fall over, or anything! She can… I mean, that's not a great thing for her, but…"

"Lighten up, Arthur! She-"

"My heart doesn't even work, yet it still feels like it's breaking…"

Bunny rested on Arthur's shoulder. "Alfred knows you're special, Arthur! And if he plays his cards right, he can be with you forever in the afterlife! "

"Shirley still breaths air…" Arthur looked solemn, and the deathly creatures were running short of time. They quickly explained this to Arthur, that the Easter Bunny was looking for apprentices, and Bunny was going to try out for it. Nigel was going to be there for support.

"Oh… Bye guys…" Arthur waved to them, wished them luck before they were gone, and all of a sudden realised his tea was going to get cold. Surprisingly, it wasn't, and when he noticed the world around him had stopped moving, he clapped his hands to make it start again. _Sopheration, the art of halting time so you and other magical or mythical friends can talk, whilst nothing else happens. _Arthur again recited. _This act can only happen when your mind is clear, and other supernatural forces are present._

Then Alfred continued with what he was saying earlier, and Arthur listened.

"No, I'm fine! I just… I'm in a fight with my boyfriend at the minute… I'm pretty sure he's upset for me, but I haven't done anything wrong!" Arthur actually heard Alfred say that time. _Wait! She knows Alfred has me? And he's gay? _He thought. He really had misunderstood, big time. _Nigel and Bunny were right!_ He hated himself for admitting to that one.

"Oh, honey! I'm sure things will work out just fine! After all, you really love him, don't you?" Shirley had grabbed Alfred's hand, only now Arthur didn't mind as much.

"Yes. I really, _really_ do…" Alfred had actually looked at Arthur with apologetic eyes. _Shit, my Disparation has worn off! _he realised. He returned the look to Alfred, and smiled also.

"I love you, git…" Arthur said. Luckily, only Alfred could hear. Then the two Americans kept in conversation, and did so until Shirley finally left for the evening, then Alfred scooped Arthur up in his arms and carried him to bed, where their lips remained locked throughout the night.

**Shirley. I don't know, I didn't even want her there… THIS GOT TOTALLY OFF THE PLOT, SHE WASN'T EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE IN THERE. I MEAN, WHAT THE FURK HAPPENED TO MATTHEW? HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE COMING UP NEXT! Poor Canada… Everyone forgets about him! Even me! LOL**


	11. What's A Canadian?

_Chapter 11: The Canadi… The Canyade… The Ca- Alfred's Brother_

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><p>After Alfred finally came to terms with the fact that Shirley didn't believe in ghosts, he finally understood why her and Arthur couldn't be friends. It was her fault that Arthur had been bedridden for yet <em>another<em> week, and making sexual noises from his bedroom. After weeks of forgetting, Alfred did in fact remember his brother Matthew, who he seemed to often forget about for some strange reason…

Anyway, Alfred believed that now was finally the time to show his brother the ghost he had made friends- no, a _relationship_ with, and also to claim his $10. Thankfully, Matthew was coming back to America for a couple of weeks since it was almost Christmas, and he wanted to spend some time with his brother. Matthew had been in Canada. Alfred had to get Arthur to tell him where that was. No joke.

"So, Mattie? When will you be over here?" Alfred cooed over the phone.

"_Tomorrow, I'm catching a plane there, so I won't be that long! Could you pick me up at about 4PM, perhaps?_" his brother said.

"Sure thing, bro! Glad to be of my heroic service!" Alfred punched the air. Although Matthew couldn't see it, he just knew.

"_Well, your 'heroic service' better help me with my bags, Alfred, because I'm feeling a little bitchy since my boyfriend left me!_" Matthew wasn't usually this upset… And he had a thing for French guys… Maybe that dick, Francis, had been mean to him? Alfred just assumed, there was no harm in that, was there?

"Jeez, dude! Keep your hockey helmet on! I'll be there with my car, just shove 'em in the back!" Alfred ignored his racism.

"_Of course… Sorry, Alfred… Just, there was this guy… His name was Francis…_"

_OH I SO TOTALLY KNEW IT!_

"… _he left me heart-broken… But, hey! You haven't done anything, _yet!_ I shouldn't get mad at you… I apologise, sincerely, Alfred!_" That's the Matthew Alfred knew! And, he ignored the fact that his brother was in the state of despair because of some guy… Doing something… When it came to Matthew, there was an awful lot of ignoring to do.

"Dude, it's cool! And hey! I have a friend of mine that I want you to meet! He's super awesome, and smart, and awesome, and cute, and sexy and… I mean AWESOME. THAT'S ALL I SAID: AWESOME. NOTHING ELSE!" Alfred hadn't told Matthew that he swung that way, and didn't really want to. Even though Matthew liked men, himself. But Alfred was just kind of like that.

"_Alfred, it's okay, man! I can kinda tell that you like guys, so don't fret, eh? So tomorrow I'm meeting your _boy_friend, too, right?"_

"Err… Totally…" Alfred said nervously, "He's a little… err… _different_, so I'd prepare yourself!"

"_Nonsense, everything that you've pulled in your life time has been nothing I can't handle! I've seen the strangest, you can count on that I won't be the slightest bit creeped out, especially with some of the things _you've_ dragged home!_" Matthew laughed, causing the phone to go a little crackly.

"Right… See ya tomorrow, Mattie!" Alfred ended the phone call before Matthew could reply, and looked straight into the green eyes of Arthur Kirkland.

"'sup, dude?" Alfred asked.

"Nothing, just… I love you, okay?" Arthur wasn't really the sort to just say these things randomly, Alfred was getting suspicious.

"Seriously? That's some bad-ass lies you got goin' on, Artie~" Alfred tugged on the mans new light blue shirt that Alfred had bought him a few weeks ago. Arthur sighed and sat on Alfred's knee, since he was sitting on the stairs which were right next to where the stairs were.

"I just worry about you, okay? What if your brother doesn't believe us? What are we to do then?"

"No problem, baby. He will, he's Mattie! He always believes me! Like there was this one time, I convinced him that there was a ghost living under the stairs when we were little! He always liked ghosts, hence his profession now! I was trying to scare him, but it only really scared me, since Mattie kept trying to coax the ghost out from under the stairs to say hello! Talk about a plan back-firing!" Alfred and Arthur both laughed. Al was relieved that there was a smile on his 'baby's face. They stared into each others eyes for a while, before Arthur planted a kiss firmly on the others lips.

"Mmm, baby I love you~" Alfred sang. Arthur chuckled, and gently slapped him across the left cheek.

"The Beatles? Alfred, I fucking love you!"

"You know, if this were Shin Makoku, in Kyo Kara Maoh world, we'd be engaged to be married because of you!" Arthur just looked at him, confused.

"You what?"

"Nothing… Never mind!" Alfred laughed, thinking about how much Arthur seemed to look like a certain blonde-haired, green-eyed demon-prince that he knew of.*****

The next day, Alfred had headed off an hour before Matthew said he would arrive. His Mercedes was low, so he had to stop off at a gas station to fill up his tank, but got distracted by a Spaniard called Antonio, and took fifteen minutes longer than planned. His boyfriend - apparently called Lovino - was having a little bitch about Antonio talking to other men, then they started shouting at each other in foreign languages while Alfred controlled the urge to laugh.

Anyway, Alfred ended up being a little bit late. _Fifteen_ minutes late. And we're all pretty sure that Matthew was on his man-period (THEY EXIST.) and wasn't the best bit pleased.

The angry noise of Canadian grumbles and trolley wheels echoed in the airport, they somehow stood out from the spontaneous chatter from everyone else who was there. Alfred was met with an unnerving glare, behind curved glasses, and froze where he stood. He knew his brother to normally be calm, patient and rather shy, but when something had went wrong, Matthew would honestly snap. Alfred's brother had a little OCD (or as Alfred called it, Bitchy-Man Disorder) which basically meant that when it was Mattie's time of the month, he was easily breakable. If something bad in particular happened to Matthew _within_ this time, he would be simply grouchy for God knows how long.

Thanks to Francis (so it appeared), this was what went down today.

"ALFRED! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HERE FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO!"

"Jeez, bro! Don't shit yourself!" Alfred flapped his hands rapidly to try and calm his twin down, however, Matthew was fuming.

"Do you have _any_ idea how hot it is in New Orleans, compared to Vancouver!? A MILLION FUCKING DEGREES!" Some people in the airport were staring at them, half feeling bad for Alfred, a few feeling bad for Matthew and the rest were completely amused by the whole situation.

"Mattie, Mattie, MATTIE! Chill! There's aircon in my car _and _at my place, if you stopped complaining and came with, I'm sure you'd be a lot cooler!" Alfred was one of those who were amused with the situation. Although 'Madeline' (which is what he sometimes called him when he was behaving like a sexually deprived woman) was a nightmare to deal with, he was hilarious to watch. The Canadian let out a violent sigh before dumping his bags next to Alfred's feet, and jumping in the passenger seat of the Mercedes Benz, arms folded and sulking like a 5 year old.

Alfred rolled his eyes and shoved Matthew's bags in the back of his car. He joined his brother in the front, turned on the air conditioning and the radio, and began the drive home.

Singing along to the Glee cast version of _Don't Stop Believing_ seemed to calm Matthew's nerves.

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><p>Back at home, Arthur had been reading. He had sat reading at a weird, supernatural speed, a book that could only be described as magical. He enjoyed the tale so much, that he'd read it 5 times, and it had only just been an hour since he'd picked it up. Being a ghost had the strangest of advantages, one of them being Arthur could absorb information faster than any human could ever imagine! So, although this fairy tale was over 400 pages long, he'd honestly travelled with the main characters, Alex and Conner, about 5 times already. Arthur was admiring Alex's taste in words for the 6th time, and decided he would send a Tweet to the author, telling him how amazing the book was and how he couldn't wait for the sequel, and the movie he was also starring in. Through Alfred's Twitter, of course.<p>

Speaking of Alfred, he emerged into the living room, heaving three oversized bags over his shoulders. A slightly smaller, shy man peeped into the room. Upon seeing the person he'd never met, all bitchiness that Matthew had in him drained quickly from his body, along with all his confidence.

"Uh, hi there… My name's Matthew… Matthew Williams-Jones… I'm Alfred's younger brother…" the beige haired boy held out a shaking hand and nervously chuckled a little. Arthur didn't feel too afraid, but this was another mortal that wasn't Alfred who could actually see him! He had to make a good impression, right?

"Arthur Kirkland; pleasure to meet you!" he politely smiled and gently shook Matt's hand. The tension eased as Matthew came to appreciate Arthur's light touch, and let his hand drop beside him as Alfred threw his bags down and panted a bit.

"Please be careful with those… All my stuff's in there…" he went unheard.

"What's the matter, Al? Too fat to carry a couple o' bags?" the Brit chuckled, earning the complete respect of Alfred's brother. It was things like that which made Matthew wish he was confident enough to say them himself.

"Artie, you're mean~" Alfred pouted, "I'd like to see YOU take these upstairs! There's like, 10 tonnes of pancakes in here, or something!" Alfred, again, failed to notice the random racism.

"Fine then, which room is he saying in?" Arthur crossed his arms, deviously glaring at Alfred being a wimp.

"The biggest guest bedroom, I guess…" Alfred shrugged and stood aside so Arthur could collect Matthew's things.

With astounding ease, Arthur picked up the items of luggage and hoisted them upstairs, dumping them on the bed of the guest bedroom with red curtains and bed sheets. Alfred had followed him up there and stared at him in defeat as Arthur relished the feeling of power over his boyfriend with a smooth, cheeky smirk. Meanwhile, Matthew had stayed downstairs, drinking maple syrup out of his flip-top metal bottle, like it were an alcohol supplement. Again, he remained unnoticed.

The Canadian sat down. He'd only had a brief encounter with Arthur, yet it was memorable. Matthew recalled how sinister the touch of his hand was, like the hand hadn't even been there at all. It was a crazy idea, that he thought like that, but Matthew was a Ghost Whisperer for a living, and he knew that aura when it was present.

He gripped the arm rest on the couch. Alfred was dating a supernatural being and wanted his help. _What the actual fuck, Alfred!? Why would you do that to yourself!?_ The relationship would probably end horribly, since… Well, after watching Rose Tyler in Doctor Who, Matthew had figured out that if you fall in love with something that isn't human, shit happens. That meant Alfred might get sucked into a parallel dimension, or turn into a demon or worse, die. But from what he'd just witnessed, Alfred seemed the happiest he'd ever seen him when being there with Arthur. Life wasn't fair, was it?

The young man sighed and looked up, to see his brother, and his lover, coming down the oak wood staircase. He began to notice the slight black tint in the skin around the white and green of the Briton's eyes, and how pale he really was. The difference between Arthur's face and hair looked like shading on a drawing of some cheese.

"So, anyway, Mattie's gonna be staying a while, so I hope you can make friends and stuff… Matt, make yourself at home, dude!" Alfred beamed at the two guys in his living room and shot off to make some coffee for him and his brother, and some tea for Arthur.

"Matthew, is it?" the ghost of a man looked up at the Canadian. He nodded, and smiled softly. "It's uncanny how much you look like your brother!"

"Well, that's not exactly the best thing…" Matthew sheepishly said. He recalled upon the countless times that looking like Alfred had been a curse, rather than a blessing, like when Alfred had accidentally torched his high school a few years ago, and Matt had got the blame for it. Apparently, being a paranoid, scared, harmless and shy person in high school automatically meant that you secretly wanted to maim everyone.

"Huh, I guess not. He's a bit of a dick sometimes, I'll give you that!" Arthur laughed. Matthew actually laughed too, which surprised even himself. The supernatural being stood in front of him didn't give off a nasty aura, but a cheerful one. Although, Matt could also tell that he was holding back a secret past. He couldn't tell what it was, though.

"There was a reason why my brother wanted me to meet you, wasn't there? And not just because you two are getting serious, and Al's wanting to introduce the family…" The Canadian looked as stern as he'd ever been, which took Arthur by surprise. He stared wide eyed, breathing (or pretending to breath) deeply. Matthew stood with his pale blue eyes fixed on Arthur's green ones, brows slightly furrowed.

"I suppose you could say that…" The Briton said, before Alfred came in the living room with the drinks.

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><p><strong>*<strong>Wolfram von Bielefeld, Kyo Kara Maoh. He is Iggy's twin, seriously XD<strong>**

****I'M SO SORRY FOR LONG SHITTY HIATUS!****

****I've been busy, but my next chapter will make up for it. THERE IS LOTS AND LOTS OF DRAMAZ SO PREPARE YOUR TISSUES. PLZ.****

****I HAVE A LIFE TO GET ON WITH I'M SO SORRY DON'T HATE ME FOLLOW MY TUMBLR, MAYBE?****

****klainebowpride . tumblr . com****

****YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH****

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><p><strong><strong>Hey, you read my FanFic,<br>And it was crazy,  
>But, there's a blue box,<br>So Review, maybe? ;)****


	12. Paranormal

**WOW, GUYS! I'M ON A ROLL! :D**

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><p><em>Chapter 12: Paranormal<em>

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><p>"Duuuuudes! What ya talkin' 'bout?" A big American grin attached to some hands put a tray of mugs down on the wooden coffee table in the living room. Arthur and Matthew remained rather serious, and picked up their cups. They knew which ones were theirs, since Arthur's had a Slytherin logo on it (bought from the Wizarding World of Harry Potter), Matthew's had a maple leaf on it, and Alfred's had 'World's No#1 Brother' on it, which he received as a birthday gift from Matthew once, and always tried to use it whenever he was present.<p>

"Alfred, we should talk to him about this," Arthur said, still really serious. If he stared any more seriously, he might have grown a couple more eyebrows.

The tallest of the three stared at the Brit wide-eyed, swallowing nothing. He took a sip of coffee, then swallowed that, too.

"Alfred?" Matthew looked at him, sternly. The only time he was ever confident (apart from when pissed off) was when it came to his profession. He studied all things paranormal for a living, and had published various books on how to rid demons from your home to how to send the spirit of a loved one into the afterlife in the sky above. Matthew was literally the best Ghost Hunter in the whole of Canada, and was often requested for various tasks, mainly in the haunting of houses. It was a bizarre job, but publishing the books on it actually earned him money. He was fascinated in Arthur already, and they hadn't even gotten to explaining how this shit worked.

"Sit down, Matthew…" Alfred furrowed his brows, and gestured for them all to sit down, "Please…"

On that note, all three of them sat promptly on the burgundy couch's facing each other. Alfred looked like he was about to cry. Alfred never cried. He occasionally would let a tear or two fall if he was scared out of his pants from one of those thriller movies on late night TV, but that would only be because he'd been screaming so much. This time, the American genuinely looked like he was going to cry from sadness.

"You can sense the aura, can't you?" Alfred looked up from his coffee mug to Matt who was sitting on the couch opposite. "You can feel him, you always could…"

Matthew nodded. He looked at Arthur, then back to his brother who was shaking a little.

"You can tell that Arthur is… Isn't human, right?"

"Of course… He's somewhat supernatural, isn't he?" Matthew held out the hand that wasn't holding coffee and straightened it, as if he was saying "talk to the hand" to Arthur. He closed his eyes and began to truly _feel_ the ghostly spirit that sat before him. Matt remembered doing this to one of his 'patients' that had been 'possessed' by the undead. He felt the familiar tingle of the energy coming from the blonde, who weirdly enough felt it too. Alfred watched in awe as he saw his brother and boyfriend sharing something that Alfred thought he never could.

Arthur took a sharp breath as Matthew made his hand into a fist. It felt like he was reaching into his heart, his soul. Ultimately, he was. Then it hit him. The murder. The screams. Francis holding him, crying into his chest as the masked crook fled, knife still in hand. The moment when a group of terrorists caused Francis to have to get up and run for his life, leaving poor Arthur dead on the road. The awkward funeral spent with people who he didn't know, who were Romanian gypsies who'd just happened to pass his body, and give him their own deranged method of burial, smashing his skull and ripping out his heart, to make sure he didn't return to this world as a vampire. He remembered being buried in little more than a pit in the soil, because he had been taken to the poorer part of Romania.

Arthur remembered being zapped home after the funeral, taking nothing but his heart in a jar with him. He'd been trapped. He had tried to leave his house many times, but only being faced with the abyss beyond his doorstep. All he could see was a skulled creature with a sword and shield guarding his home, and nothing but black mist surrounding it. Arthur had tried, he really had, to walk past the figure, but every time he attempted to move past him, the creature just swung his sword towards him, and he would fall to the ground, imitating the sharp pain that his murderer had given him when stabbing him in the stomach and chest. Arthur would fall to the ground in agony, crying and screaming as the blood would once again seep through his clothes, and he would fall, fall, fall until the pain stopped and he'd awaken back in his own bed, wishing it had all been just a dream. But then he'd go downstairs and take a quick look out his front door and realise that the being was still standing there. He had checked every single day for 5 years.

Matthew saw Arthur, sat against one of his cream walls, crying. Simply in tears, knowing that he'd never see his family again, that they'd never know where he was buried and visit his grave. Although he'd always hated his 4 brothers for constantly mocking him, Arthur knew that his sister, Alice, would miss him more than anything, especially since she was the only one he'd ever trusted with his secrets, like his passion for the magical arts and his belief that unicorns and fairies were real, and not stupid story characters. Matt saw the Brit holding his head in his hands, sobbing, as he felt himself slipping away. Arthur also was greeted with the memory of constantly cutting his wrists for 6 months solid, only to find that the pain was less than temporary, and he healed up in about 7 minutes. His depression haunted over him like the ghost of a man had been doing to the house for five long years.

Then Matthew saw something that he wouldn't have expected to see. The moment when Arthur first met Alfred. How much it had made the Englishman smile, joking on with him about their cultures and eventually kissing each other every night before they went to sleep. The Canadian physically felt the change in emotion from the second Alfred came into the images. If they could be described in colours, the first year of his afterlife was a mix of deep red, to indicate blood, and black, to show the emptiness. Since Matt's brother, his life had spun of into a mix of a soft, delicate green and an equally calm blue, to show the depth of his emotion. Seeing both Alfred and Arthur so happy brought a tear to Matthew's eye for two reasons; 1) The love between the two men was so pure and beautiful, but 2) Because the relationship would never succeed.

Finally, the visions ended. Matthew lowered his hand and opened his eyes, only to find a shaking Briton gripping his trouser legs tightly in front of him.

"Artie, please… Stop that…" Alfred had pulled him close, whispering in his ear. If anything, this was the aftermath of what Matthew had just done. "What the hell did you do to him!?"

His brother stared at him with forlorn eyes, a look that could only be described as angst.

"I looked inside his soul… It's a form of… Exorcism…" Matthew realised what he'd just done. That trick helped him understand the complexity of the ghost that Arthur was, but had also made him physically unstable, as what he'd just done should've sent him on into heaven above.

"I'm not… I'm not going! N- Not when my family haven't found the body! No, please! No!" Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, and held onto himself. "I need… I need cough syrup!"

Alfred rushed to the medicine cabinet that he kept in the kitchen, it was downright unbearable to see Arthur in that bad a state. He panicked and fumbled for the purple-labelled jar, jogging back into the living room where Matthew was just staring at the coffee mug in his hands, like nothing was happening.

"What the hell are you doing, Matt!?"

"Nothing, he needs you, not me…" the Canadian sipped his drink that was nearly cold by now.

"How much do ya need, baby?" Alfred said, coolly to his lover, unsure of how much to put on the little spoon he also had.

"ALL OF IT! Give me that!" Arthur almost shouted, snatched the bottle from Alfred's grasp and chugged the contents down whole. A couple of (ironically) coughs and splutters later, Arthur's chest was simulating breathing steadily again, like normal.

"I need to go to bed… Please…" Arthur leaned on his boyfriend and shut his eyes. Alfred carried him upstairs.

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><p>A few moments later, Matthew joined his brother by the bedside of Arthur. The walls were painted deep green and the carpet a light beige, with various photographs decorating all around the room. The bed was the centre piece in the room, and at this point had two chairs around it. The American and Canadian sat on these two chairs. One worried, the other concerned. Alfred sniffed, breaking what was silence.<p>

"What's your opinion on this, 'all mighty ghost whisperer'?" Alfred looked up, upset and distraught at his lover's practically lifeless form.

"I think you need to get out." Matthew had never sounded more bitter in his life. He simply looked Alfred in the eye, matter-of-factly, and stated this.

"What…?"

"You heard me. You need to get out. Al, you're in far too deep and you're going to get hurt!"

"Out of the relationship with Artie? Shut up, man! You don't have any idea what we have!" Alfred frowned and gripped Arthur's hand as he slept.

"I do, Alfred. I've seen inside his soul, I know how happy you two are together, and I _know_ how pure and sweet your love is, but you just _can't_ do this to yourself!" Matthew decided to show sympathy to his poor brother. He knew all to well what it felt like to be in love this deep, but he also knew what it felt like to get his heart broken by someone who couldn't love him back. Although Arthur clearly _did_ love Alfred, this was a whole different scenario.

"Please, Al… Listen to me? He's going to be here, forever, watching you get old, _alone._ You may have him, but lots of people can't see him! If you talk to him in public, they'll think you're a mad man, and get sent to an asylum! You won't be able to have a civil partnership, you won't be able to raise kids together, you won't be able to do any of those things, because he's _dead_, Alfred! He's dead, and even if people believe in him, they still might not get over the fact that… What you're doing is _technically_ necrophilia…" Matthew trailed off. He could see the sheer hurt in his brother's eyes, and was hardly able to look at him.

"I thought you of all people would understand, Mattie… About ghosts… And true love…" Alfred looked down at his hand that held his lover's. "About all those things… That mom had told us about in the story books…"

"Don't you _dare_ bring mom into this!" Matthew almost yelled. He was beginning to tense up, but Alfred ignored him.

"Oh, face it, Matt! Mom was the only reason you even got into the paranormal!" tears fell from Alfred's eyes, sliding their way down his chin, "After mom's death, you were convinced there was a way you could bring her back! You studied, and studied, you researched everything, everywhere you could!" Alfred's voice broke. "You _knew_ it wasn't over, you _knew. _That there was a way for us to see her again, well guess what?! Guess what, Matt? There is!"

The Canadian stared at his brother. Just stared. He was in shock at Alfred's sudden outburst. After all, it had all been true. He would do anything to see his mother again.

"Every Christmas, Arthur can take people to see their dead relatives… Or anyone dead, really… He's a privileged ghost, so you should thank me for getting on his good side…" Alfred sniffed. "I love Arthur, and I love our mom, so don't even _dare_ tell me to break up with him, or so help me, you'll be sorry…" he'd started breathing deeply in attempt to calm himself down. Matthew swallowed. He wanted to see his mother more than anything, so he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. It was a shame that Alfred would have to suffer for this to happen, after all, how the hell are you supposed to have a relationship with someone who isn't even alive? In Matthew's selfishness, it was a price he was willing to pay.

He stood up, Alfred was silently still crying, refusing to look at the other conscious man. The Canadian went and hovered over the American, before embracing him in attempt to comfort him.

"I'm sorry, Al… I'm going to bed now, okay?" he kissed his brother's forehead before leaving the room to settle down for the night. Never before had he experienced a scarier encounter, and _he_ worked with ghosts.

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><p><strong>So... What do you guys think? Intense, huh? I have to say that this is getting better since I first wrote it! I'm in love with this chapter, it just gave me SO MANY FEELS! It's unreal how awesome this is.<strong>

**Can I also say? I'M PROUD TO ANNOUNCE THAT I AM THE CREATOR OF: Ghost!England! :D No joke, guys! I trolled the internet, and there literally isn't any Ghost!England to be found! I've made a bit of fan-art, but they're just edits! I'll link you guys to them in the next chapter, but right now it's 1:20AM and my mother is telling me to get my arse to bed! XD**

**Thank you again for reading this shit. It's fun to write! **

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><p><strong><strong><strong>Hey, you read my FanFic,<br>And it was crazy,  
>But, there's a blue box,<br>So Review, maybe? ;)******

******VVV******


	13. Plans of A Deadman

**Before I start this chapter, can I quickly give a message to an anonymous reviewer who was productively critical? Went by the name of "ee" XD**

**Sweet heart, if you read this… Well first of all, cutting your wrists is most definitely NOT just a girl thing, I know that **_**I've**_** done it! Plenty of times, in fact. And I know two of my best friends who are also boys have done it also. Heck, one of them **_**still**_** does it…  
>And Canada being a Ghost Whisperer was mentioned in another chapter, I should point out. Heck, whenever Canada was mentioned, his occupation was brought up! That's mainly why Alfred wanted to see him, to see if he could help with the situation…<br>As for the 'going to fast', perhaps I may have sped it up a little, but only because there are quite a lot of plot points to get through! I have 3 whole A4 sides of notes just for the PLAN, dude! I mean, heck! This Canada part is at the top of the second side, so :'3  
>But I shall try my best not to go too fast, but there is quite a lot of stuff that I want to write about. Plus I have my original novel and other fan fictions that I want to write, so this needs to get out the way ASAP XD<strong>

**Thanks to all my readers, and I'm not sure when, but you'll be getting some guest stars soon! Any guesses?**

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><p><em>Chapter 13: Plans of a Deadman<em>

Arthur stirred. He kept feeling like he was being murdered again, and again. The pain of the thick, Romanian blade kept being forced through his clothes and through his rough, cold skin. He'd been having the exact same dream for 2 weeks now, since Matthew had played with his head. Arthur had found comfort sleeping in a different room to Alfred, as he was so twitchy as he slept that he feared he might kick Al out the bed. The nightmare had always consisted of the same thing. A murderer. It was odd, because it was never the man who'd killed him. It was another man, who had shiny, messy hair, silver in colour, and red, glaring eyes.

_This night was different, however. He'd imagined the same scenario; a dark night, walking home to his house in… Wait, was this Vancouver? He continued walking to the house which wasn't in Louisiana. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a set of keys. He inserted them into the hole and stared down at the door handle to see his reflection in the brass. _Wait, that's not me! _He watched as the face he was seeing looked shocked, just as he was. The face he was seeing had mid-length beige hair and oval shaped glasses. He was Matthew._

_Arthur didn't understand. This dream had happened many times before, but never like this. What appeared to be Matthew entered the house, dropping his keys in the bowl by the door, and walking down the hallway. Somehow, this was worse. He wasn't himself, he was his boyfriend's brother, and it felt wrong. A sickening feeling in his stomach grew ever stronger in his stomach, as he recalled what would happen next. _No, please no. _His conscience called out. He begged his body to stop moving, but Matthew just continued to walk, curiously towards his kitchen. This couldn't be happening, could it?_

_Arthur, captaining Matt's vessel, entered the tiled room and spotted that man, that deranged man. He had his back facing the doorway, silver hair shining underneath the strong, heated light from Matthew's ceiling. It was a greasy mess, but that's all you could see, besides the black leather that was making the man sweat. Then Arthur heard something he'd never seen in the dream before._

"_Gilbert?" Matthew's voice rung out. Arthur was scared. The dream had only ever been silent before, apart from the scream of… _Oh god, no…

"_I was wondering when you'd get home, Williams…" The accent was a thick German one, and the way he'd said 'Williams' was unnerving. The dialogue continued._

"_What are you… Doing here?" Matthew's voice shook. Arthur had no idea what was going on, but he didn't like it one bit._

"_I came… For you." An odd scraping noise came from where Gilbert was. It was a knife dragging across the counter top he was stood next to. _

"_What… What have I done?" he was less scared, and more questionable. He seemed confused. Arthur now discovered he was no longer Matthew, but watching the two men from a third person perspective._

"_You know what you've done… You… _Killed_ her… You let her _die_, Matthew!" The silver haired man was shaking slightly. He was visibly scaring Matthew, but still he remained as composed as he could._

"_Yes, I did let her die, but that's what she needed! Gilbert, she was dying already! I helped her spirit to pass on peacefully! Isn't that what you wanted?!" Matt frowned at the angry man, watching him grip the knife tighter in his hand._

"_No… I wanted her to be by my side… Forever! I wanted you to save her, to cure her! I told you what I wanted, so why didn't you give it to me?!"_

"_She had a terminal brain tumour! Gilbert, there _is_ no cure! I should know, my mother died from the same thing when I was 9!" Matthew let a tear slip from his eye. What the hell was happening to them both? "Gil, I helped her ghost to have a peaceful afterlife. She's still by your side, in your heart, just not physically!"_

"_I won't believe it!" Gilbert yelled, "Elizabeta was perfect! She can't just… die! I hired you so you could help her… To help _us!_ I thought being Canada's best Paranormal Investigator meant you could actually _do _something!" He gritted his teeth, still clinging on to the handle of the knife._

"_Well, I'm sorry Gilbert, but you were mistaken… I can't bring back the dead…" Upon saying this, Gilbert glared viciously at him and took a step towards him._

"_Elizabeta… I will avenge you…" his red eyes glinted with his intentions. Matthew gulped, and took a step back. Without any other warning, Gilbert came charging at him. Matthew tried to run, but he found himself unable to move. Arthur remembered how this dream ended._

_He watched as the light left the Canadian's blue eyes, and how the hate flared up in the other man's red ones._

"_THIS WILL TEACH YOU TO NEVER MESS WITH A GERMAN, YOU-!" he started screaming violent words in the foreign language, with each syllable he forced the blade another time into the chest of the man that had fallen to the ground before him, blood spewing from between his teeth as the knife reached his lungs. Finally the wheezing stopped, and Matthew lay lifeless on the floor, with a tall, aggressive and vengeful man towering above him, panting. His hands and clothes were splattered in blood. With an angry grunt, Gilbert brought his heavy, thick soled shoe down upon Matthew's chest, making a harsh crunch, before getting the hell out of there. Good thing he was wearing gloves or he could've got caught, right? That was the only thought that comforted Gilbert, as he fled the scene, remembering his sweet Elizabeta and how 'happy' she'd be with him._

Arthur woke up, shivering. Never before had he felt so cold. He pulled his knees up to his chest, having the uncanny urge to vomit. He was pleased to hear Alfred and Matthew laughing downstairs, which confirmed that everything was alright. It had all been just a dream. A twisted, horrible dream.

Or so he thought.

* * *

><p>"I thank you both for your hospitality, and I hope I can have the pleasure of staying with you both again some time!" Matthew smiled softly and bowed his head a little before taking a quick leave. A cab had been waiting for him already, so with a few hugs good bye and heavy bag lifting, Alfred and Arthur were waving as he departed back for Canada. The sickening feeling crept back into Arthur as he watched the car drive down the hill. What if something happened to Matthew when he got back to Canada? He'd make sure that Alfred called him to make sure he'd had a safe trip home. In the mean time, he'd concentrate on making everything wonderful with his boyfriend. Arthur could tell that Alfred wanted to take their relationship to the next level, and had done for a while now. He was just a little bit worried about how it would affect him, as a ghost, and what kind of feeling it would actually have. Being dead, the last thing he'd ever thought about was having sexual relations with another person, dead or alive.<p>

In his first year of death, he did try some incredibly awkward self manipulation, but that felt worse than it should have. He recalled that his penis had been surprisingly warm, despite there being cold blood in it. Because his hands were freezing, it excited him _so much more_ than it had ever done before. The tingle was sensational, but that was by himself. With Alfred, it would be different. Not only was his boyfriend alive, breathing, beating and warm, he also was topping. It wasn't as if Arthur hadn't had sex like that, he had done it plenty of times, but not like this. How would it feel for Alfred? He was cold everywhere, and Alfred wasn't. What if his lover didn't like how cold he was to touch? It would be more than awkward.

Arthur found himself blushing. Al pulled him inside, out of the cold, and asked the ghost what was wrong. Arthur couldn't reply. How could he tell him that he was not only plagued with the thought of his brother's death in his dreams and that he was now thinking about having Alfred fuck him senseless and how it would be possible necrophilia.

"Nothing, seriously… Just call him when he gets home, okay? Make sure he's okay…"

"Uhh, sure?" Alfred raised his eyebrow, and gave him a concerned look, and tugged at him to make him go further into the house. There was a tense moment, before the American quickly said, "Do you want tea, or…?"

"That would be wonderful, yes…" Arthur sighed, and started to head upstairs, "I'll be back in about five minutes, okay? Just going to the attic…"

Alfred nodded, and walked into the kitchen, whereas his lover headed all the way to the attic of their home, locking the door tightly behind him. The sunlight bounced off the beige-haired man's glasses as he stood washing a mug in the sink which had always been just next to the window. After giving it a quick rinse, he turned on the kitchen radio to be greeted to Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me, Maybe". He sung along, preparing the tea for Arthur, only getting himself some water.

"IT'S HARD TO LOOK, RIGHT AT CHA, BAAAAAABY~!" Alfred was seriously singing far too loudly as the milk met the hot water that had already hit the tea bag. Enjoying himself, he let the elements mix as the song continued to blast through the radio, and Alfred danced like there was no one else in the world.

"BUT HERE'S MY NUMBER, SO CALL ME, MAYBE?!" he jumped up and down, over-excited. He turned the volume up and skipped around the entire bottom floor of the house. Then for some odd reason, "Dancing Lasha Tumbai" proceeded Carly. Alfred started kicking his legs and pretending he was a Eurasian hipster.

By the end of his escapade, Arthur came back downstairs. Noticing how the skin around his eyes looked redder than they naturally were, Alfred grew concerned.

"Artie, have you been crying?" he put a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"What? Of course not…" he practically sniffed. Arthur had never been very good at acting.

"Listen, babe. I know you haven't felt to well, so how 'bout you and I go out on a date tomorrow, huh? My treat!" he smiled softly at him, adoration filling his eyes. Arthur blushed slightly, but nodded.

"Sounds amazing… And goddamnit, Alfred, turn that music down, this isn't a disco!" _Ahh, here's Artie! _Alfred chuckled to himself and turned the radio down a notch or two so they could talk over their drinks.

… _When the fuck does Alfred even work? _Arthur asked himself, staring at him in disbelief, realising that in almost 4 months of knowing him, Al had never once gone out to work.

He amused himself at the thought.

* * *

><p><strong>It just occurred to me that Alfred's never been to work in this FF. I HAVE A REASONABLE EXPLANATION, THOUGH, AND I'LL INCLUDE IT IN CHAPTER 14, OKAY? :D<strong>

**I was singing Call Me, Maybe as I wrote this chapter. It was on repeat. Then I decided to switch the song, and all of a sudden: DANCING LASHA TUMBAI! Anyone who hasn't heard that song should go to YouTube RIGHT. NOW. Then you will work out how random my playlist actually is.**

**AND GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUYS. I've created a Haunted!AU, okay!? So I think you should all go and like The Hetalia Haunted AU on Facebook! I MADE A FUCKIN' PAGE. **

**IT'S HARD TO TYPE THIS,  
>WHEN MY FINGEEEEEERS HURT,<br>COZ I PLAY GUITAR,  
>BLAINE LIKES TO FUCK KURT.<strong>

**(I don't even know)**

**BUT THERE'S A BLUE BOX (not the TARDIS)  
>SO REVIEW, MAYBE?<strong>


	14. A Date  Take 2

_Chapter 14: A Date - Take 2_

* * *

><p>Arthur prepared for his date with Alfred. That was all he could think about. He'd insisted on sleeping together last night, and Arthur couldn't stop the thoughts of how perfect it was going to be running through his head. He shouldn't have been nervous, but he hadn't been on a date in almost 5 years. And that in itself terrified him. They'd been dating for about 4 months, and the only time they'd ever went out together was when Arthur had gotten far too drunk, and… <em>things<em> ensued. He couldn't even remember that, which was the worst part.

Arthur sniffed the roses that sat on the dresser where he was currently fixing his hair in the mirror. He was perched on a stool in his own bedroom, not Alfred's, so his boyfriend would only be slightly surprised at how he looked. The element of surprise was already ruined because Alfred had in fact bought all the clothes. But Arthur was forgetful at the best of times.

With his hair looking as bouncy (and messy, still) as ever, Arthur bounded to the bathroom, washed his face, and then walked calmly downstairs, to be greeted by a beaming Alfred.

"Artie, babe! You look awesome!" he kept up the beam and grasped Arthur's hand. Arthur blushed.

"Uhh, shall we?" he smiled, nervously, and decided to make a quick exit, before he had a nervous breakdown and his brain exploded, for the second time (The first being when he worked out he could control his TV with his paranormal abilities.).

The couple had slowly made their way into town, being cautious that they didn't hold each other's hands or waists etcetera, as not only would have this town expect Alfred had an issue by clinging onto thin air, but for those who could actually see Arthur, the apparent homophobia might show in the faces of the ignorant. Alfred tried his hardest to keep a slight distance to Arthur, at least until they got in the movie theatre that they were planning for the date. In there, their romance was shielded by the dark of the screening.

* * *

><p>When they arrived at the cinema, Alfred and Arthur both surveyed the list of what was on at the movies that the two of them would both enjoy. Alfred, really wanting this to be one of those dates that would end in 'something special' thought to himself that they should perhaps see a scary horror film, because that way Arthur would get scared and snuggle into his arms, and tell him to "be a Hero and save me from the monsters!". Although, anyone else alive would've worked out it would be the other way 'round.<p>

"Paranormal Activity 4? Really?" Arthur looked at him, like he'd just recited the hundreds of digits of pi.

"D- Dunno, just thought like it'd be something' you'd be interested in…" Al mumbled and looked down. Maybe that was a little insensitive… Arthur sighed.

"Come on then, if you really want to see it…" he flicked his wrist and went towards the ticket booth.

"Two tickets for Paranormal Activity, please!" he said to the lady, who continued filing her nails and didn't even notice. Arthur rolled his eyes and gestured Alfred to come over. The lady looked up and smiled at him.

"Can I help you?"

Alfred repeated what Arthur had just said, and got immediate response. He smiled awkwardly at Arthur, and the woman stared in that direction, confused. Alfred shook it off and took the tickets from the slightly confused lady, before continuing to the theatre.

On a whole, the film wasn't that interesting. The boys simply enjoyed the company of each other and snuggled, until something particularly terrifying happened and Alfred jumped and squealed like a little girl, before clinging onto his boyfriend for dear life. The Non-Believers in the room found it too funny for words.

Arthur hadn't been paying much attention to the film; he'd much rather just cuddle Al until they fell asleep! But at one point when Alfred had been scared (trust me, there had been many), Arthur reassured him that non of this was real. Before he noticed something.

"Oh… My… God." he gawped at the screen, before repeating the phrase and leaning forward to make sure he hadn't been mistaken.

"Artie, what are you doing!? You don't lean _closer_ to it!" Alfred hissed, pulling his knees up to his chest and shaking a little.

"I know her!" Arthur almost exclaimed. He pointed at the woman in the long, black dress with eyes as sunken as Davy Jones' chest and skin a mossy green. He was obviously referring to the on-screen poltergeist that was scaring the daylights out of a small child, by ripping her parent's head's off and wiggling it about in front of the poor girls' face.

"You KNOW her!? Arthur, WHAT THE HELL!? I THOUGHT YOU JUST TOLD ME THIS SHIT WASN'T REAL!" Alfred cried. His blonde haired companion started to laugh. "DUDE, THAT'S SO NOT FUNNY!"

"Her… Name's… Evelyn!" he said in between laughs, "She's a professional stripper!"

"…" Alfred didn't have anything to say to that.

"She works in the under-world's strip club! We met in a bar, in Crossylvania! Which is a region down under! Said she didn't have much else to do, so liked dancing for money!" Arthur continued to laugh. He found this hilarious. A slut like her, being so terrifying? And on screen? He always suspected that Evelyn liked the attention.

Alfred found himself smiling a little. He would like to hear more about this 'under-world strip club' later…

* * *

><p>After leaving the cinema (and enjoying the reaction of the clueless ticket lady), Alfred and Arthur decided to walk home. It wasn't too far, but was at least half an hour, and as it was dark it was the perfect opportunity to share any late night kisses that the two felt had been missing from the evening. The two perched in an alleyway, near some of the hardware stores and a nice, Italian restaurant. When they knew no one was looking, Alfred pushed Arthur gently against the wall and kissed him with longing. He'd been waiting all day for this, since surprisingly Arthur had insisted on saving themselves for today.<p>

After about the 6th kiss in the 5 minute period, footsteps were getting louder. A small heard of baseball caps, swung 'round the wrong way, bouncing up and down to their awful music playing from one of their Blackberry's. They started walking down the alleyway, and Alfred and Arthur jumped apart. Neither of them looked very big to the group of young people.

"Well, well, well! What 'ave we here?" a medium sized lad with quite a few piercings and a stupid smirk on his face. The older couple looked slightly nervous and scared of what was probably going to happen. Even still, Arthur spoke up.

"What the hell's it to you?!" he said, sternly. These guys were nothing compared to him, he thought to himself.

"Ooh, this little guy's feisty!" the same guy beamed quite vigorously, eye brows scowling but mouth wide open. Arthur noticed his gold tooth.

"Dude, just leave him alone! What's your problem!?" Alfred stood forward, defending his lover.

"My problem?" the guy got up in his face glaring right at him, the situation getting more serious. The other guys laughed, the single lady who was with them all whistled, "'S that you two _fags_ were makin' out in our damn town! An' we don' think too kindly to _fags_ in New Castle."

The guy's breath smelt disgusting. Alfred found himself moving slightly away from him, which the lad saw as a retreat, and moved his face closer to him again, grabbing his jacket, "Oh, you scared?"

"No, asshole! Get the hell offa me!" Alfred pushed him away causing the smaller guy to stumble a little. Alfred was really strong, sure he could take this guy!

"Clock 'im, Chad!" the teenage slut called after him from about 2 metres away. Some of the other guys moved closer and pushed Chad back towards Alfred, and he met his fist with his chin.

Al let out a pained noise, let his left hand grab the side of his face and used his right to swing a punch back and hit Chad square in the nose. He heard a crunch and the kid squeak a little in agony; Alfred determined he'd broken the guy's nose. The girl in the group went and caught him when he looked like he was about to fall to the floor, took him to the side and cradled him, while another of the guys, slightly bigger than Chad, came over and took a swing at Alfred. He ducked, and punched him in the stomach. The guy made a noise, but barely flinched and picked Alfred up by the collar.

Meanwhile, Arthur was panicking and had begun to recite a curse he'd learnt from the _Guidebook. _

"_Futuis eos transversa… Futuis eos transversa_…" He repeated this until he started glowing red. The group of trash stopped punching Alfred when they saw the light illuminating Arthur's entire body, and made him appear more ghost-like than ever. Only now did Alfred see him for the very first time; an undead spirit, partially risen from the grave. From appearing like a normal human, Arthur turned a pasty grey. Underneath his eyes deepened, and melted into black, mixed with a crimson red from underneath his skin. His veins, which were an eerie pink, began to show more clearly as a chilling breeze flew over the entire town. The white trash group froze. Alfred froze. Even the alleyway froze; it was coated with an icy layer.

_LEAVE US_, Arthur spoke. Except it wasn't really Arthur at all. It was creepy, and couldn't be heard by your ears, only by your mind. The spirit was inside each and every one of their heads, talking. It made all the mortals feel sick and messed up, like all of the life was being drained out of them.

They began to feel cold. Arthur, who'd been clenching his fist, released it and the humans regained feeling. The American chav's dropped Alfred and ran, some of them screaming. Arthur dropped his curse quickly, and everything returned to normal, faster than it had changed. His boyfriend was panting on the floor, slightly hurt, and he touched his shoulder gently. Alfred flinched at his touch.

"Are you okay…?" he looked apologetic. Arthur had scared Alfred, and he could tell.

"Dude… That… Was…" Alfred shuddered, then looked up, "AWESOME! YOU TOTALLY OWNED THOSE GUYS I MEAN OH MY GOD ARTIE I DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD DO STUFF LIKE THAT!" Alfred continued blabbering, actually smiling at Arthur with wide eyes.

Arthur laughed, and helped Alfred off the ground. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah, that sounds good, but only if you get back to normal! It's terrifying, looking atcha with that scary-ass black skin 'round your eyes…" he avoided Arthur's gaze, because it was really rather creepy at that point.

"Oh, right, yeah… Ahem… _Facere faciem meam humana~_" Arthur said, and his face moulded into a natural peachy tone. It looked like someone had painted a doll. They left the alleyway, and strolled home, arm in arm, not afraid of anyone because they couldn't touch what the two had.

* * *

><p>"Ahh, Alfred! Careful!" Arthur winced as he was pounded just a little too hard. His boyfriend grunted in return as he slowed down what he was doing ever so slightly.<p>

The two were sprawled across the bed in Alfred's room, said resident on top of Arthur, bodies intertwined. The Englishman let out a few gasps and groans as Alfred made their thrusts move to a steady rhythm, making sure they were pleasured, but not hurt. They had already been nearing their climax, since they'd been at it for a while, and Arthur's prostate was incredibly sensitive. He'd been hesitant at first about 'taking it', but the amount of pure passion he felt right now completely made up for the minor pain he'd felt previously.

Yes, that's right. Their conclusion was, after the incident with the group of homophobic young people, that they were going to have sex.

Alfred growled. He was so close it _hurt_. He just wished that he'd be allowed to- "Oh, _God_, Alfred, _FASTER!_"- Go faster? Sure thing! He obeyed his command, and started thrusting deeply inside his boyfriend's _perfect_ ass, sensing a very familiar feeling rising in his stomach. Arthur's dick, barely touched that night, felt similarly.

"So fucking _close!_" Arthur squeaked. Then Alfred found _that one spot_ that made him scream out an orgasm, all over Alfred's toned stomach. Hearing such a delicious noise, the American released also, filling the Brit up completely. Panting, he asked:

"'Nother round?"

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, I apologize.<strong>

**I can't write smut OR fluff. I like dramaz. I can't help that OAO**


	15. Extraordinary Merry Chr-STOP THAT'S GLEE

**FOR ALL OF YOU WHO CARE - SORRY. GCSE'S AND THAT MAKE ME BUSY, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH FREE TIME I'VE BEEN GIVING UP. BUT AFTER SURVIVING THE COLD, I BRING YOU:  
><strong>

**THE HAUNTED CHRISTMAS SPECIAL**

**This is both fluff and sort of pointless, but HEY. It's not a good anything unless it has fluff and Christmas. (Or ChrisColfermas.) SPEAKING OF WHICH:**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 15: Extraordinary Merry Chri- NO STOP, THAT'S GLEE!<em>

* * *

><p>It had been a few weeks since their first time. Alfred and Arthur had continued living together, having the easy life. They'd been going out on lots more dates, and when they couldn't be bothered to go out, they'd stay at home and converse. Arthur had finally found out what Alfred did for a living, which as it turns out, was he ran a ridiculously popular blog that earned him a tonne of cash, and he didn't even have to get off his ass. It was the reason why they hardly spoke on Sunday's, because Alfred had to update. He also had a web comic, about a few kids and some grey people, and went under a fake name of "Hussie", but he didn't really want to talk about that.<p>

Alfred also found out some information about the under-world's strip club. Arthur had explained how there were many cities in the world of the undead, that were simply underneath the Earth, but could only be accessed if you knew the magical spells. "I'll show you, when you die, Alfred…" he had simply said.

Now, it was approaching Christmas, and Alfred was eager for the day. Not only could he fill up on turkey, get presents and parade around in the snow, but he was also presented with the opportunity to see his mother, who'd died about 10 years ago. Their entire house was decorated, and Daphne Jones' ashes sat calmly on the mantelpiece. He stared at them, proudly. Never before had he been so excited before. But he could only wonder what his mother would think of him now… After all, it had only been a couple of weeks since he'd gotten into a fist fight, and his bruises hadn't quite disappeared yet. It wasn't his fault though, he couldn't help how he was! Wait, that's right. He had a boyfriend now. What if his mother didn't approve of that? He hadn't been a curious teenager before she died, he'd only just gotten his head around his sexuality, and hadn't been able to ask her any questions on the matter. What if she hated it or something? Well, that would ruin Christmas…

Surely not. His mother had been a nice person, and wouldn't ever judge him for something like that? Well, he hoped. And if she didn't like it, he wasn't going to pretend to be someone he wasn't, just for her sake.

"Excited, Al?" a short blonde piped up. He gazed over the American's smiling face, and took that as a yes.

"You kiddin'? I'm psyched!" he chirped. "It's only a few days away, dude!"

"As long as I don't try to bake again, like I did last year, then I guarantee that this year will be the best Christmas I've ever had!" Arthur smiled back at him, chuckling slightly.

"Sure as hell will be!" Alfred tended to the pine tree that sat at one side of the living room, and adjusted a bauble, "Can't wait to get out the _mistletoe_~" he smirked, so did Arthur, and his cheeks went a little red at the thought.

"Shame Matthew can't make it though…" both of their smiles dropped. A day or two ago, Matt had phoned saying that he wouldn't be able to come over for Christmas, or in fact see his mother, because he was wrapped up in his work, doing a few seminars before and had been called to an exorcism during. It was a disappointment to all three of them, especially since Matthew had had a particularly close bond with his mother, and had been really looking forward to seeing her. He expressed his regrets, and said he'd join them next year, so Alfred better not piss his boyfriend off too much, because he wanted the privilege to still be there in a years time.

"It is, but don't let it dampen your spirits! Christmas is just around the corner, and it's snowing and I'm so- oh my God!" Arthur bounced a little and bit his lip, showing some resemblance to a small child and/or Alfred.

"Never seen you this happy 'bout somethin' before!" Al tilted his head and smirked. What was he buzzing about?

"Oh, well, I…" Arthur calmed down a little, "I haven't been out in the snow for 5 years, remember? I've been under 'ghostly house arrest'!" he chuckled softly.

"Aah, yeah…" the taller of the two nodded, and turned to watch the soft, white snow fall outside, painting everything up to the horizon in the playful frozen, flaky blanket. Each of the boys sighed, relaxed at the sight.

"Beautiful, huh, babe?" Alfred slinked a playful arm around his love and pulled him closer.

"Sure is…" Arthur leaned on him, breathing out. "I can't wait much longer, I need to get out there!" it was a whisper, but it showed eagerness and anticipation, all in that moment. All of a sudden, he was spun 'round and Al grabbed his shoulders. Triumphantly, he shouted "Well, what are you waiting for!?" And they sped to gather their winter things for their adventures in the snow.

* * *

><p>Christmas day came faster than a gay man watching Glee. The once quiet town of New Castle now beat and blurted out the noise of a city on the East coast of America, and the Christmas buzz was taking over the souls of many a person. On the day itself, the cities quietened, preparing for the quaint holiday that was Christmas. The only cars on the roads were of family members getting home to or going to see their loved ones, and most of the people on the streets were simply giving their dog a festive walk, complete with reindeer antlers and collars that jingled. Watching the scene from afar, Alfred stood in his winter coat and boots, woollen mittens and hat, eager for his Christmas trip. His eyes were glazed with the hope and happiness like a child would be. Since Arthur couldn't really go out and buy something like a normal human, Alfred knew he wouldn't have any special gifts from him unless they were already inside the house, but he didn't mind. It still felt like the best Christmas ever - Screw that, it was! A wonderful home, a visit to see his mother, and a beautiful piece of man-candy on his arm! Hell yes, Alfred was going to love this year!<p>

"You ready yet, Alfie?" the man-candy called. Arthur stood, harmlessly awaiting him by the stairs, watching him watch the outside world go by. You would've never thought that this was the man who could kill you if he stared hard enough by the pink tint in his face and the sheepishness in his soft smile. Beaming at him, Alfred nodded and bounded over to meet him with a quick peck on the nose, the cheek, the ear then the lips. As they Eskimo-kissed, Arthur grabbed his lover by the arm and tugged him towards the cupboard under the stairs. The taller of the two gave him a confused look.

"We're definitely meeting my mom, though, not Harry Potter, right?" he chuckled, making Arthur laugh in return.

"You dolt. Harry Potter isn't dead yet!" Artie smacked him on the arm. The Brit let his hand rest on the wooden door for a few seconds before the edges lit up purple, and it swung open automatically. "Speak a word of this to any other mortal, apart from Matthew and the both of us? We're _dead._ And that's saying something, because I'm not even alive." Arthur glowered at the blue eyes that quaked with the essence of fear. Taking a gulp, Alfred followed the ghost down the purple stairs that looked like they spiralled down _forever._

Bored, Alfred and Arthur finally approached the end of the stairs, only to be greeted by another door.

"_Alohamora…_" Arthur whispered, hearing a click they pushed through.

"Seriously? That shit actually _works?_ I thought you said Harry wasn't down here!" Alfred spoke under his breath, but made his partner snort with laughter, at something that wasn't meant to initially be a joke.

Through the door, Alfred noted the huge, cave-like ceiling that looked like it was dripping blood, yet no one seemed to get a splash on them. Speaking of which, it was bustling with people. _Dead_ people. Some of which were missing body parts, were skinless, simply just bones or spirits. It was a huge city, filled with people who came in all the colours of the rainbow, and that was a literal statement. Everyone down there seemed to be illuminating a different colour, even Arthur! When he'd entered, he'd looked normal, now he emanated a light green from anywhere you could see skin.

"Don't be afraid, you idiot. None of them will hurt you," Arthur held Alfred's hand, as he could see he was actually shaking; Terrified. The human gripped his boyfriend, unsure of what to make of the entire situation, and deeming himself helpless if any shit were to actually go down.

"Just… Hurry and get me to her, okay?" he gulped. Quickly, they made their way down the blue and orange streets filled with abstractly shaped houses and towards a grand, tall building, with a skull on a spike either side of the gateway to remind everyone that this was 'the Dead Realm' and everyone else can "GTFO". It looked, to Alfred, like some sort of civic centre, and as it happened, that's what it was, Arthur explained. You could barely make out what was going on with the walls as they were distorted, but melted and glowed a pinky-red as they wiggled, making Al's head ache when looking at them. Arthur, un-phased by it all, strode up to the main desk and got the attention of the woman with a few nails in the front of her neck.

"Could we see a Mrs Daphne Jones, please?" he asked her. She was just like any ordinary human, sat at the desk; She was bored as Hell, which was ironic because that's where God was sending her next. She turned to her computer, typed in the name, and with a flash of smoke a piece of torn, yellowed parchment appeared in Arthur's hands. He thanked the woman, then beckoned Alfred to follow him towards something that Al thought may have been a TARDIS, but it was just as big on the inside as it looked from the out.

There was a single slot at the back of the booth, where Arthur inserted the paper into it, the machine swallowing it up (no, literally, the slot turned into a creatures mouth and chewed it up, narrowly missing Arthur's hand) and burping. Said burp lasted a good thirty seconds before leaving a little silence, then jerking and jolting like a masturbating athlete. All of a sudden, the booth distorted and Alfred wrapped himself around his boyfriend, not wanting to die. Arthur didn't seem to see what the fuss was about, really.

_Whoosh!_ After the jiggling stopped, and Alfred breathed once more, the two stepped out of the booth into a rather small, picturesque living room (oh, how ironic!) with yellowy walls, a maroon carpet and a huge fireplace with two armchairs and a coffee table sat around it. One of which was occupied.

"M… Mom?" Alfred let out a gasp as the woman in the chair turned to face him, looking bewildered and happy and sad all at the same time.

"Alfie, sweetheart… Is that you?" she looked so confused, too. He nodded, and leapt towards her, unable to keep calm or his hands from wrapping around her, squeezing his mother into a tight hug. There was that horrible smell of slightly rotted flesh, but he'd have to cope.

"It's you! It's really you! Oh man, do we need to catch up!"

"You've grown so much! Oh, wow you look like your father when he was young!"

Arthur stood by the wall as they talked, not wanting to interrupt any family moments going on. He gazed longingly at them, wondering if it'd be too much to try and see his family at Christmas. Then again, he didn't think any of his family believed in the supernatural, so it wasn't worth the risk of flying all the way to England just to watch them eat dinner and pay tribute to the lost son and brother they'd lost many a year ago. Sighing, he let his eyes drift to the dancing fire, wondering if it would be too much just to _lie_ in it and let his fears and sadness burn away. Arthur looked back at his boyfriend. The other dancer in the room was the light and love that twirled in his eyes, pirouetting and leaping from the iris to the pupil then back out the other side, shimmying through the whites then swirling back into the iris as the chorus to _I Giorni_ played as a massive piano solo, all of this in those glowing orbs of blue happiness. Arthur felt soppy, now. But he couldn't help it; He was allowed to be nostalgic, wasn't he? It was Christmas after all.

"So, who's your friend, honey?" Daphne smiled at her son's accompaniment, only then did Arthur look her eye to eye.

"Ahh, that's Arthur! You'll love him, he's absolutely perfect!" Alfred cheerily yelled, only getting a gentle smile in return as Arthur still felt like the third wheel here. "He's, uhh… Special to me, mom."

"Pardon?" she looked at her boy with questionable eyes. Alfred just hoped that she didn't get upset.

"Uhh, about that…" Alfred fumbled with his mittens. "Arthur is… My boyfriend?" his voice raised in pitch at the last syllable. His mother looked surprised, but not angry.

"Oh, I see. So _that's_ why he's been staring at you like you're a soft puppy all this time!" Alfred's mother giggled, putting her hand to her chin as she did so. A look of relief flooded Alfred's face - He looked a little like he'd just got one out in the bathroom.

"Honey, you're free to be whatever and whoever you want to be. This is America! Well, not here exactly, but… You get the idea," she said nicely. Alfred and Arthur both looked at her in awe, there was something about her pleasantly peaceful now that they noticed. Perhaps it was because she was dead, and her eternal 'sleep' was incredibly relaxing.

"Hate to be a buzz kill, but you've only got about 10 more minutes…" Arthur checked his whispy watch that only seemed to appear now that he'd said those words. Alfred sighed heavily.

"Aww no way! You didn't tell me there was a _time limit!_" he sulked.

"And _you_ didn't tell me you were such a baby!" Arthur folded his arms, imitating Al's pout. He earned a laugh from his lover's mum and she nodded at her son.

"He's right, you'll need to leave soon. It was the best Crossmas ever, to see you again, Alfred." Daphne's face had never been more motherly and lovely, Alfred swore it. But there was confusion still.

"Crossmas?" he pondered.

"Christmas in the underworld - Crosses being one of those things you represent with death since Ancient _Everywhere_." Arthur stated.

"Aah… I agree, mom, best Christmas ever." he stood up to hug her again. "I… I love you." he said quietly.

"I love you too, honey. It was nice meeting you, Arthur. Treat him right, okay?" she directed her attention to the blonde after Alfred let go.

"You too, Daphne." Arthur respectfully did a little bow before trotting back towards the booth, letting Alfred follow him. Their trip home wasn't as boring as the trip there, as Alfred was gushing about how lucky he was and how it was nearly impossible for him to not cry but he didn't and how much he loved Arthur for making this all possible for him.

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><p>"Thank you, Arthur. For making this the best year ever. I'm serious!" was what Alfred toasted at the dinner table that evening. "I swear if that cake you baked is poisonous, though, I won't even mind! I'll just be talking to my mother all day down there, like, wow!" he laughed.<p>

"Shush, don't push your luck! And this is the best year I've ever had, too. You complete me, Alfred. And you should know that…" Arthur blushed, shuffling his chair towards his boyfriend and kissing him on the cheek. Alfred made a gesture that the two of them should put down their knives and forks, so they did.

"Hey, there's no mistletoe, but I'm not complainin'~" Alfred murmured as he swooped in for a big Christmas kiss. As they snogged, snow began to fall outside, decorating rooftops, cars, trees and sleeping animals' hiding places from the winter cold, and everything was at peace.

"This is honestly and extraordinary, merry Christmas, Alfred." he gazed lovingly up at his lover, who was not the least bit impressed.

"Come now, Artie," Al said, mimicking Arthur's way with words, "You know I hate Glee."

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><p><strong>GASP, ALFRED, HOW COULD YOU HATE GLEE?<strong>

**ASSBUTT. For those of you who are oblivious to the reference, Glee has an original Christmas song called "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" that is sung by Blaine (Darren Criss) and Rachel (Lea Michele) that I'm also performing in this year's Christmas concert SO**

* * *

><p><strong>ALSO.<strong>

**I'm going to be taking a bit of a hiatus from this story. Lot's of bullshit's been going down, so I'm just like WELL HOW DO I WRITE and I've got lots of plot bunnies, like a Slenderman fic and a story called "The Director" which is just chapter after chapter of gay porn.**

**Point is, I'll come back to this at a later date (WHEN I FIND MY PLAN) but for now, be happy, IT'S CHRISTMAS SOON AND ALL THAT JAZZ**

**No harm in watching "Elf" and "The Grinch", now, is there?**

**TA-TA FOR NOW~**


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